My Will: A G-Zero sequel
by Phantom R.D.S. Foxx
Summary: Welcome to G-Zero's sequel! After the events of the G-Zero Chronicles, Fox and Krystal went back to their old habits. But it's not looking very good. It turned nightmarish and dusk. So is this story. A twinge can be dangerous without you knowing it...
1. Prologue

G-Zero's sequel everyone! My Will will hopefully be as, if not more successful than its predecessor. It starts off a little different but in the end you know where it's going for. ENJOY! 

**Prologue 1: Unknown**

It's unusually dark outside. No light sources burn and no head or tail lights of any car drive by. All that there is, is the gleam of the full moon. Its light shined into a prison cell known as 568-J, named after the cellblock its part of. Its inhabitant? That's me. A 30-year old male who, believe it or not, sat here on my terms. I never claimed I was innocent for something I defiantly committed. I'm asleep now. What? Gimma a break! It's 4AM in the morning okay?

Sorry, drifting off. Where was I again? Oh yeah: lying on a bed that felt better to more I lied on it. The springs in the mattress and the bed itself were complete bonkers. But just like a butt-print in a couch-cushion, everything takes the shape you want it to be as long as you pressure it. I've told my girl that the beds were okay, but it took a lot longer before I could actually call it that way.

Today is actually the past when I describe it now. Actually, to be completely fair, that morning was a year or so ago. If not longer. It was the day of my advanced release. How glad was I to get out of this dump. Into the real world and experience freedom. The only sense of that have been short but very, VERY pleasant encounters with my girlfriend.

Of course, I'm always too tired to realize what important day it is this time. Last time it was a general inspection… held at 6AM. I almost slept through it until a guard came by and started to rattle his baton against the bars of my cell door. What is it? A sideways xylophone!?

And I could swear that I heard that same sound that very morning. Only it was further away, down the hallway. It came closer but eventually took off and silence took over.

*There is only one shit for brains that does something like this.* I thought by myself. His name was Richard. His last name was too complicated to remember. Everyone always called him Richy, simply because the rumor had it that his uncle was stinkin' rich. Oh… how many of my fellow inmates haven't slobbered at this feet to become their friends. Me and my two friends would just look at it like: 'Dude. Are you f-ing kidding me? Have some self-respect.' Those guys seemed to be prepared to do anything. Luckily, we weren't the only inmates thinking the same. About 98%, that includes us, just watched and covered our faces from time to time.

Suddenly, the rattling came back. And it approached my cell quickly. I heard it stop at the end of the cell door of the cell just next to me. I had one, extremely sleepy eye open when I heard something clinging behind me. It was a bunch of keys attached to a large ring. Richy was trying to find the right one for the lock.

'566-J… 567-J… Ah! 568-J!' I heard him say. He put the key in the lock and turned it. My cell door opened and I heard him coming in. He tapped his baton on the iron integument of my bed in an effort to wake me up. With me already awake for 10% and absolutely hating that awful sound, if had success for sure.

'Get up mister.' he commands on in munificent manner. 'I thought you would be happier to see the morning of your release.'

When I heard that, I wish I had the power to facepalm myself right through my stupid skull. The most important day and I forget that!? My friends have been released for about two months now. Both got the same punishment. And finally, it was my turn.

Unfortunately, my mind and body wouldn't cooperate properly. My eyes were wide open all of the suddenly. I sat upright as my eyes already tended to close again. With a hazy gaze, I looked at Richy. He just stood there, smug with his baton in his right paw. As if he was expecting me to blow him or something. Hell! How should I know what he demands to get as "friend"?

But I was drifting off way too far. Those realms are best left untouched.

'Why so early?' I inquired before I uttered a lengthy yawn. Richy laughs sedated.

'Because we don't wanna cause a ruckus among the others. I thought you might understand.' he suggested to my previous career. He was probably just jealous that he never came as high as I was. Anyway, I stood up from my bed. I turned around before Richy and put my paws behind my back.

'This is the last time you'll ever wear these. Be glad.' said Richy as he put a pair of cuffs around my wrists. He put his left paw on my left shoulder and guided me out of my cell. The hallway was quiet. Really surprising since Richy rattled a lot the past few minutes or so. Richy locked my cell and guided me through the hallway.

Suddenly, without any warning, the inmates started to rampage within their cells. Like rabid monkeys trying to break out. I could hear tables, if there were any, were flipped and beds tossed at the bars of the cell. There were even those who clanged to the bars and started to pull it out. Well… **trying** to pull it out. To no effect of course.

It scared my balls off at first but then I was more assured that most cries and shouting was actually positive in tone. It was my farewell party with a shrieking choir of idiots that were still your inmates. In some respects, your fellow comrades. You're in the same building, locked in a cage and sobbing in rage until someone finally notifies you that reality is coming back at you.

Richy didn't take kindly to this surprise party. With his baton he started to slam against bars and arms jutting out in between. 'Get back!' he commanded to no extent. The inmates were going complete loco! It was a joy to see really and I was humbled. As I bowed my head a little to show my humbleness, Richy was having trouble with a pawing inmate who grabbed on to his baton. Richy frees it after a brief struggle only hit the yapping inmate in the head with it.

It was an embarrassment to get something stuck between the paws of that guy. He was a rapist and not completely 100% in the head for starters. He was also the whipping boy of the whole block and the weakest. So yeah, it was quite the embarrassment to my entertainment.

As I come closer to the door, the way to my freedom with a slightly red Richy guiding me towards it, my eyes went up for some reason. Block J had three floors, all visible from the ground floor up. Like a staircase for giants. And on the second floor, there was this guy. A wolf who liked to pretend he was a lion. He was a heavily tanned, buffed up cannibal and led a notorious gang within Block J. Always stirring with the police and guards inside.

We had a bitter rivalry ever since I called him out for "black face" in front of my girl when she visited. That guy and I had been in a fight before that. He surprised me in the showers. Classy right? Anyway, he got me a black eye. I was able to repel anything else and I've shown him who was boss. About that… I'd rather not go into too much detail. Let's just say that he walked a little more awkward after that.

He looked down on me. Pfff! As if **I** should be afraid of that. 'I'll be seeing you Doll!' I spoke and… if you thought that Block J wouldn't get any wilder… then you haven't seen that. "Doll" was my new nickname for him. I found "asshole" was too thick on top. You know? Too obvious.

Finally, the door opened before my eyes and I saw what looked like a typical office hallway. A green carpet all the way through, a T-junction in the middle and two offices in cased in stone with glass to look in and outside of them. It was like I entered an entire new world. To be clear for you reality checkers and nitpickers out there; this was the permanent exit. For those set free. There is another one leading to the lunch and dinner room and another leading outside. Just to clear things here.

We went straight on the junction and the swing door that was opened before me with an annoying loud buzz, showed a counter. It looked like stall at an airport where they check your ID. Behind the, of course, bulletproof glass, sat a desert-red coyote on a black swivel chair reading a newspaper and having a nice coffee while his feet were resting upon his desk. Something that was not authorized but he didn't care. His name was Chad and like with his younger brother, I didn't know his last name. Never had to. He had a bowl haircut that was really thin and so greasy it would put the 70's to shame.

This was the point of no return. Here I would regain all my stuff. My old clothing and other stuff I had on me. Of course, not my weapon. That would too risky. It isn't a silly cartoon ladies and gentlemen! Richy tapped on the glass, getting a less than friendly look from Chad.

'WHAT!' he bellowed in a slight Asian accent. It was funny because he did that on purpose. His real accent was slightly Brooklyn but he liked messing with people from time to time. All because of the looks on his face, you could almost say he was someone else's brother.

'Can't you see I'm reading this?' He looked over to me. 'Oh! I didn't know that was now.' he says a little more functional.

'Surprising…' said Richy condescending. 'You're taking care of this?' he asks as he sees that it's almost time for his brake. He feels like he went through a battlefield. Not unexpected since those inmates can be quite the bunch.

'Of course I'm taking care of this you racist idiot!' bellowed Chad again. 'Now go! Fill your white stomach with pre-produced hotdogs and other snacks made of cow dung!'

The moment Richy walked off, Chad started roar in laughter, kicking his feet up in the air and throwing the newspaper like an old rag away. We both had a laugh before we got to business.

'It feels… ahaha… so good to punk with him.' says Chad feeling a sting in his ribcage. He laughed a little too exuberant.

'It sure does.' I replied. 'It sure does…'

Still with his feet on the desk and coffee is in hand and mug, also important, he turned his free paw to the computer. He typed in my prison ID-number and that unlocked a cabinet behind him. He puts his coffee away and grabbed a small suitcase out of it.

The cabinet is filled from the other side where there is also a door. The storage of every inmates' stuff is better preserved that way and it's a little harder to acquire during a breakout.

Chad laid the suitcase out in front of me and, already reaching for his coffee again, opened it in front of my eyes. 'See something you like?'

But of course dipshit! I didn't say that but my expression certainly transmitted that. Chad opened a part of the window and shoved it underneath. He took it and was ready to leave. But I had one final question for Chad.

'Hey Chad?' Chad barely reacts to it, a jittery movement of his left ear to show he heard at least something. *Smug idiot.* 'Is there someone waiting for me outside?' I asked heavily suggesting towards my girlfriend. She had to wait for me as a free man for too long now. Especially since I haven't seen her in days. The last days before one's release, visits, certainly conjugal, were scrapped. For me, that reason is still not known.

It did nerve me a little. Is she in time to pick me up? Does she even know it's today? I know; too many thoughts were running through my head at that time, but I was that nervous. Nothing showed at from me, but inside it was a horrid feeling.

Chad gave me a cocky smile, knowing the exact reason why. He rolled his chair to the back of the room and knocked on the wall.

'Eh yo _STEVEN_!' he shouted towards the room on the other side. A guy named Steven who I've never met, seemingly in control of the camera's, woke up startled hearing Chad's shouting after he dozed off.

'Uuurhhh…. WHAT!?' he yelled back furious and touchy.

'Can you check if someone's is awaiting a prisoner about to be released?'

With more attention to his upcoming sleep than to the screen itself, sleepy eyes looked at every camera that showed the street outside the prison. He saw no one. No person, no car at all. With a feeling of Chad wasting his time, he covered his eyes with a cap and simply said:

'Go to Hell Chad. Time wasting S.o.b…' before he dozed off again. 'I'm sorry.' read from Chad's face as he rolled back to me. He shrugged as he too couldn't help it.

'It doesn't matter.' I dismissed it quickly while I was getting a little suspicious and even paranoid. 'Thanks for the effort Chad.'

'Nah don't mention it.' he waved off humble. 'I still have to thank you.' he suddenly brought up. I had an idea where he was talking about but wasn't really sure.

'For what?' I therefore inquired.

'You know? My brother's funeral. You did everything in your power to get to it. And the court allowed it eventually on your persistence…' He got cut-off by emotion there.

It was about a year ago, at the same time I was just imprisoned when his brother was buried. I sat there, in my prison outfit with two cops on either side of me with thick chains around my ankles and wrists. I would never attempt to get away but that extra security is just a must. '… he-he…' He looked up at me with tearing eyes. 'You were his hero man!' he called out to me. That I showed up at that funeral was so important to him and frankly for the family too.

It was an honor to hear something like that. Being someone's hero. Someone's example, a role model. This guy was always a little mysterious and never spoke so full of me as Chad did now. I didn't really know what to say.

'Chad… I uh…'

'No…' he quickly dismisses this and every other attempt for me to add anymore. It wasn't necessary. 'No. You just go. Get out of here. He… he would have wanted that.'

'Chad.' He raised his head once more. 'Your brother was a great marksman. And an even better man. He was one… no. **The** best of the best in his profession. His end was unexpected and too soon. And about that funeral, I wouldn't have missed even if that meant the world would end afterward.'

How much Chad appreciated those words proves from his expression. With a fulfilled feeling, I left that counter behind. Chad opened the door, with yet again another loud buzz adding these words to it: 'Go be with your girl.'

That brought me back to my unwanted paranoia. You see, my girl is one of a kind. Now I'm sure all you lovers out there will doubt that statement, but just wait until you meet her. She has a rare infection that alters how she looks. Just her looks, not her character. That would be very repelling but just the looks aren't enough to scare me away. I can see beauty underneath it.

So why am I paranoid? As I walked down a hallway only going straightforward, my mind began replaying visits from a few weeks earlier. She said that because of her participation in that racing event, a lot more of congenial one's came out of the closet about their infection. She was the Martin Luther King of them.

To the point now. I'm sure she'll explain that herself in detail a lot better than I ever could. She told me about her new supervisor to keep an eye on her infection. It was also kind of a buddy-system. A replacement by the name of Doctor Lightheart for me so that she could have someone in her life to do stuff with.

"Replacement". Do you see that word? Do you know what it means? Exactly. I've seen numerous cases of this system being successful for husbands and wife with demented partners, but I'm not a guy in a vegetate state. She told me, to my increased concern and a little to my growing jealousy, what they did that day. But she would always end saying that I was the one in her life.

But I haven't seen her in a few days. So the paranoia only grew beyond that point. What is she doing with that "replacement"? Did she forget about me? She always stressed how she wanted me free. But now that she has a free man to do things with… am I gonna be left in the dust? And the fact that she isn't waiting for me outside only nerves me even more.

I opened the last door before I breathe in fresh air. I also opened to a large square with high, concrete walls with watchtowers in the backdrop. However, the whole square is inaccessible to me as I'm forced to walk through a tunnel until I'm beyond the walls.

And there I stood. A free man. On the sidewalk of an empty street, just waiting for someone who I wasn't sure would come. I started tapped my right foot out of boredom and the feeling of uneasiness and paranoia. Seconds turned to mere minutes. The feeling of being left out in the cold in the actual cold was just one emphasize to show how dumb I looked like, just standing there.

Since there was literally no one in sight, I decided to get dressed properly. It's kind of repulsive seeing some guy just outside with a red prison attire on. When I got my relaxed jeans on, clipped my belt on, my upper body was still naked. It took a little longer to find a t-shirt I might like. Also, that what I wanted was suddenly covered beneath layers of clothing I had no recognition of any longer.

Now I don't like to show off, but I've trained quite a bit in prison. My upper body primarily. Them abs thou. And I wasn't the only one thinking that in hindsight. Behind me, in the shadow of a corner between the watchtower and the prison wall, someone was hiding. The creature seemed to like my naked upper body and me in general.

It lunged its long tail at me, constricting me in an inescapable grasp. I should have recognized the color, form and the harpoon at the end immediately but didn't: I was trying to escape a frankly choking grip. The creature hauled its tail back in and I was like: 'Fuck my life! This is the last thing I'll ever see.'

I closed my eyes and prepared for the worst. Instead, the best thing ever happened to me. My lips suddenly touched something warm and full. It took only a blink of an eye to realize that I was kissing someone. It was girl for sure; I could smell her perfume. I kept my eyes closed as our tongues met. Her taste, that feeling I got from that kiss.

'Roxanne…' I said as our lips left each other for only a microsecond. Again, I wanted to facepalm myself but I'd rather return to Roxanne's lips directly. And so I did. After what felt like an eternity, she dragged me, yes still in that grasp that became a lot more roomy, out of the shadows and into the light on the sidewalk.

I wasn't wrong to call her beautiful. She was wearing a cropped tank top with a red Anarchy logo in the middle of it. She has something with cropped shirts. Anyway, she was still wearing that one earring with the "R" as pendant on her right ear. Same color on the "R" itself and the edges. Her jeans haven't changed either. And the Venus Flytrap was still off her shoulder. Her pallid hair has grown a little and sleekly covered her the uninfected side of her face.

The only thing that looked different was that her entire back was now infected and it even started to invade her face, curling a little around her, from my perspective, right eye. I already knew about her back but her face was new. Like I said, I didn't see her the days before my release. The infection on her previously uninfected arm had intensified by only adding a few spots of purple-metallic. The finger-claw was the only thing looking severe. The three round bulges have turned into small horns curving upwards and the two stubs on her back started to resemble cocoons of some sort.

And all that? Why should I care? One of the reasons I fell in love with her in the first place. She allowed me to put my favorite shirt on although she wouldn't mind walking away with me showing off me abs.

'So Ryan; You're a free man now. How does it feel?' she asked so sweet I could swear was in a candy shop.

'It feels marvelous.' was the only thing I could really come up with. 'It just feels a lot better…' I paused there for a second to suddenly scare the living daylights out of her. It wasn't payback for scaring me, it was more of a pleasant surprise. I grabbed her from behind with her screaming at first. I wrapped my arms around her and although from another perspective it might looked like a rape in process, she allowed me to drag her into the shadow she came from.

And uh… how do I say this properly? We did it. Right there and then. We didn't care. And for me, that was the best way to show her how much I appreciated being a free man. Also, being her free man. It was the best moment of my life. No camera were able to see us so that's a plus point. It lasted for an eternity. The exact time it took… I don't know. Sorry for not keeping a stopwatch running when I'm making love.

As she resettled her bra, I told her that. The "free man for her" thing. She knew where I was aiming at. I'm not a guy keeping things to himself. And you probably got that figured out already. I told her about my increasing paranoia during the visits. And it didn't get any better once Chase and Falco (those friends I mentioned earlier) were released. That's why she always assured me that I'll always be hers.

'Ryan. You really thought that…' She couldn't believe it. She could understand it to a certain extent but for the rest? Not really. But instead of slating me, she was compassionate. 'Oh poor thing.' She pressed me against her upper body, just above her breasts. Her chin fell softly on my resting head as she caressed through my hair.

My face turned red. Not out of shame but sheer love. Note… love story cliché 47… noted. But anyway, there we sat. On the sidewalk in each other's arms. After a few minutes, we got cold. The warmth wouldn't stay with us but that was of no matter.

We decided to go to her place. We stood up. 'Where is the car?' I asked suddenly missing something. Her apartment was several kilometers into an edge city of Papetoon City so walking all the way over here is quite the trip.

She explained that she had to park the car several hundred meters back because of a car accident that blocked the entire street. Seeing that there is only one road with one-way traffic towards the prison, there were no detours.

'I also got into some trouble with a Purist.' she confessed. Bah! I hate Purists. They are the biggest and most active Aparoid haters of Lylat. They are like the West-borough Baptist Church on dope to give an extreme example. 'But I solved it in the most civil way possible.' she ended her sentence with a sneaky smile just to show that she did something to him that the law wouldn't like. All off-screen of course.

Without any reason, the skies above began to rumble and a second later, rain came pouring down.

'You know… a car would be great now.' I complained jokingly. She gave me a nasty elbow before, yes, commanding me to cover us with a coat from the suitcase. I did and we walked away. Once we neared the supposed site of the accident, most of it was already cleared up. All I found of that Purist was the emblem he was wearing. It was a sew-on patch that was ripped off.

I looked over to Roxanne who smiled back at me. So innocent that was, I just let it go. She took care of it. Should I complain? We got into the car and drove off. About 30 minutes later, we wanted to give each other a rematch, but once we hit the bed, we cuddled and fell asleep together in a fraction of a second. Sex-addicts might disagree, but that was certainly one of the very best nights. If you can be goddamn happy, sleeping with your girl without any intercourse, that's when you know she's the one for you.

PS That brother of Chad, was Rosarius. Who else in my life was an excellent marksman? If you can snipe off a G-Diffuser on a speeding G-Zero racer, then we'll talk.

-_**Ryan**_

* * *

**Prologue 2:****Roxanne**

Now unlike my boyfriend who likes to keep stuff a little secretive for his amusement, I'm more open about my name. No offense to him. Let me talk you through my experience, my side of the story.

What Ryan said about his paranoia and my buddy, was all true. Doctor Lightheart is a very friendly man and became a good friend over time. Maybe I was a little overexcited when I talked about him, but I never meant for Ryan to feel left out. Let alone feeling left out in love. My love for him.

Doctor Lightheart was and still is a genius when it came to Aparoidedation. I kept checking on my infection, the possibility of additional symptoms. Every day that was. It sometimes felt like a visit to the psychiatrist. Our outdoor activities varied from a stroll in the park on a sunny day to having lunch once in a while. The more I now think about it now, the more sympathy I gain for Ryan.

But enough about him. Let me tell you what happened to me after the G-Zero competition. Because of my public appearance that was broadcasted all across Lylat, more infected came out for their disease. Many weren't as lucky as I was with Big Daddy and Ryan. Those were always living in dark basements or worse: in a gutter.

For them, I became the Martin Luther King of Aparoid-victims. I surely don't wanna compare myself to a man of that caliber. His battle was a lot more severe than the one I fought. Because the day after we all united, the Lylatian Board recognized us as normal civilians very fast. Only a few days later, the Aparoid Rights were passed and stated we were declared as Lylatian citizens. Our only difference with other citizens was that we were diagnosed with a terminal disease. I was very glad with that along with the rest. A citizen instead of, and don't get shocked now, "enemy of the state"!

In the end, I can't blame them. They really thought we were Aparoids. With the devastation those things caused, it is still engraved in many people's minds.

Because of these Aparoid Rights, we all decided to get a new name. We are going through life as **Aparite's**. Get it? Aparoid… Rights? Aparite's?

The only thing I would dare to compare to King's battle, was that there was opposition. Of course you gotta have racism. The world wouldn't be complete without it. There are two organizations at the moment and they emerged the very moment the Aparoid Rights were passed.

The League Against Aparoids. The LAA. Very self-explanatory. But then you have the Purists. These guys were the KKK for us. They even held a march in Corneria City once. It was brutally answered with police violence but it was a clear signal for us. Unlike the KKK, they tend to keep a low profile instead of running around in ridiculous white hats and robes.

All they wear is a sew-on patch. The government is having a headhunt on the leaders of it and with success. The original founders were trailed and imprisoned for at least ten years. But they still exist.

And that's where my story kicks in. I was driving to pick up Ryan. I left way too early so even with an obstruction, I would still be there 30 minutes too early. I combed my hair over my right eye just because my Ryan loved that. I looked in the rear view-mirror, picking out little chunks of mascara that ruined that perfect look.

Apparently there was a local power failure as no street lights were on. And up ahead I saw why: the road was blocked thanks to a car accident causing one car to ram into the local power outlet. Since this was a one-way traffic road, I had no other choice then to park the car on the sidewalk and do the rest on foot. The sidewalk wasn't closed down.

The only thing, rather one, that was blocking it, was a Papetoonian Police officer. I tapped on his shoulder, asking what is going on. When he turned around, I could read the disgust from his face once he saw me. He didn't even think that a voice like mine would match with something looking like me.

'Well it is simply…. oh GO… I mean, it's simply a car accident ma'am.' answered the police officer reluctant. It was strange because all of the Papetoonian Police never had any problem with my appearance. Because I was Ryan's girl, I had many friendships within it. I didn't know this guy but he sure knew me.

'That's horrible.' I answered, leaving that whole "Oh GOD!" thing that he swallowed behind for a while. 'How did it happen?'

The officer was kind enough of to explain that. But he did it in such a degrading tone. As if I was an infant who just learned to walk. Some idiot was a little drunk and decided to ride the opposite direction without his headlights on. The other driver saw the car coming and evaded the oncoming car. Only to hit the power outlet. The drunk driver tried to evade the other as well and turned left and smashed right into a tree before recoiling back on the road.

'The road is blocked off for cars. But the sidewalk is still accessible for normal citizens.' stated the officer mostly turned towards the accident. I should have known what he was when he implied "normal" before citizens. In his eyes, I was an Aparoid, not a citizen. So when I tried to pass, he stopped me.

'Hey ho-ho-ho! Where is that going?'

'Just continuing my way officer. You know? Like a regular citizen.' I answered obvious.

The officer got a grin on his face. I'd just proven this a-hole's point: 'You aren't a regular citizen. You're an Aparite. A filthy Aparoid hybrid that should return to the shadows where it belongs. Along with all those others.'

When I observed him a little better, I saw the sew-on patch on his sleeve. He continued rambling about how Aparite's aren't real people. How he as the moralist of Lylat hasn't forgotten the tragedy the Aparoids have caused. All those innocents. I tried talking some sense into him by saying that we **are **those victims.

I don't what I was thinking. I was just fueling that brainless idiot. He continued by saying we weren't victims, rather Aparoids in disguise. Waiting for the right moment to strike and try to take over Lylat once again.

'I got it all figured out. So no, you're not allowed to pass.' he ended his rambling. I could swear that I saw brain cells, too ashamed to have ever been a part of his low IQ, leave in search for more intelligent life forms. 'Unless…' he suddenly brought up. '… you admit that Aparoidedation is a sin and not a handicap or disease as so many fools like you treat it.'

Did I had to give up everything I stood for? What I' am!? 'Absolutely not!' I proclaimed, hoping to draw attention. But I was the only one on this lonely night. The other cops on the other side of the site couldn't hear me.

'Then I can't let you through. Now piss off before I arrest you for wasting my time.' he said with a threatening tone. I had to get to Ryan. And no Purist was gonna stop me in that.

Like I previously mentioned, the government was actively picking out those Purists. The PPPD cooperating fully. From reporting cases to even extraditing those to the Lylatian Court of Interstellar Justice. They installed a new camera-system all over Papetoon City in order to spot those guys. And they actually do nothing more than that. It's not something the government uses to spy on our everyday lives like so many before. But it wasn't fully functional yet.

I decided to make a call to the new Chief Commissioner of the PDDD: no one other than **Chandler **himself. He and the other loyal OP members of Ryan's previous squads worked their way up the social ladder. Some of them got detective with the PDDD, others went into politics. Hence the quick passing of the Aparoid Rights.

Once I had him on the line, I approached that Purist and told him that there was someone that wanted to speak to him about his racist remarks over Aparite's. He told very loud and clear that he didn't want anything to do with Aparite's and certainly not someone I called.

'I warned you already…' He reached for a stun gun on his belt. '… Aparite's aren't allowed to pass unless you confess to being a walking sin and an abomination.'

'Did you hear that Chandler?'

It was silent for a while on the other side. I could already imagine Chandler's angered look. The Purist's face went from proud to white as a sheet. BUSTED!

I put the phone on speaker and that unleashed Chandler's fury. With a push of a button, the installed system was activated. All camera's in the area focused on the Purist, almost pissing his pants.

'Finally!' exclaims Chandler. 'Finally we got the last rotten apple in our quadrant. I heard it all and you're toast pal. TOAST! Let this good woman, this normal citizen, pass so she can go on her way and I'll make sure that you'll face trail not lead by a Aparite judge. Over the jury, I can't speak.'

I turned off the speaker function and held the phone back on my ear. 'Hey Chandler?' I asked very sugared.

'Go ahead beauty.' Beauty was his word for me. Beautiful was already taken by Ryan so he picked this.

'I was very insulted by the mean man over there.' I used my schoolgirl voice to make to go good and proper. 'Can you close an eye for a moment?'

He laughed, knowing that I was gonna kick the shit out of him. With a subtle tap on the joystick to the right, the camera turned away. 'You got a clear shot!' I heard over the phone.

Without any delay, I swung my tail at that motherfucker. If feels good to see that word when describing that moment. I slammed right in the stomach, making him collapse. He sat on his knees, gasping for air. He looked up and saw that I wasn't done yet. I was preparing to give him the biggest slap I've ever given anyone.

And there I went! My paw still hurts from it but that guy couldn't stand up anymore without losing his dignity. If he had any to begin with. His cheek was fire red and looked like it could use some serious medical attention. I didn't do it with my uninfected paw. No, that would be too normal. I slapped with my Aparoid claw. So it wasn't only shame and pain, but also being slapped down by an Aparite.

'Okay Chandler. You can look again.'

Chandler turned the camera back and acted surprised. On purpose, he's doing it so horrible.

'Oh no. What do I see here? I see a police officer down the ground with a perfectly normal female Aparite standing by to help him.' He turns on the microphone function of the camera system. 'No worries miss. Help is already being sent for him. You may now go to your intended place of interest.' He switches it off and comes back on the phone. 'Go and get Ryan. He's waiting for you.'

'Thank you Chandler. Anything else I should tell him?'

Chandler reached for a drawer at his desk and grabbed Ryan's file. He opened it and grabs a red inked stamp. "Re-evaluated" was stamped on his dossier. With pride, he holds it up in front of his face.

'Yeah. Tell him he can get his old job back. I pulled some strings here and there.'

'He'll be delighted to hear that. Bye Chandler.'

'See you soon beauty.'

I stepped over the moaning Purist and resumed my way. I was this close to the prison entrance when I saw Ryan come out of that tunnel. I hid in the shadows, waiting to surprise him. When he took off his shirt… some sexual predator in me awoke. It was on instinct that I grabbed him. Everything turned out right in the end.

After that cuddling night, I gave him Chandler's good news. From there on, our new life started. Together. But you know who also got a new life? Yeah… you know who. Who decided to live together on Sauria in the end, when they lost the heat? Exactly.

I think you know who Roxanne is talking about. I hope you enjoyed this 2-part prologue on how Ryan and Roxanne got back in the game. This is the official start of G-Zero's sequel. I know I said in the previous update that I wasn't sure to post it because of my Final Exams coming back, but I figured that would be unfair for you guys. So here it is! Favorite, Follow and share it with G-Zero fans all over! See you next time!


	2. A little something else

Though I'm on hiatus with the Star Fox-related stories, I couldn't resist giving you guys the first chapter of My Will: A G-Zero sequel. And thank you for the 7950 views on G-Zero Chronicles, another reason for uploading this.  


**Important before reading this:**  
My Will isn't a G-Zero clone. Therefore, you can expect a very different story with a whole different tone. I'm not responsible for any broken hearts that loved G-Zero so much. Just to let you know. I'll shut up now.  


* * *

**Chapter 1: A little something else**

A dark road in the midst of Corneria City. The road is occasionally graced by planted trees on both sides of it. The light of streetlight helps in everyone's vision. However, the strong rain pouring down hampers that greatly. A small puddle of water does not only receive these large quantities of plummeting water, but also the rolling wheels of cars passing through it. Their headlights are a warning, but for a puddle of water it's hard to move out of the way.

Three cars in total pass by. All the drivers busy with their daily business but have nothing special on their mind. Not even when they pass the hospital close by. Someone else does have business in that hospital and it's not pleasant.

Her boot splashes in the puddle described earlier as she crosses the street without really looking both ways. She could have been hit but that wouldn't matter to her. She doesn't know for how long she has been running but she does know that by now she should have collapsed thanks to exhaustion. But she's stubborn, this time for her own good.

She doesn't feel the pouring rain as its drops shatter on her white face. Not even a gout when it hits her sensitive nose and no reaction when it touches her muzzle. She's too determined far that.

In this darkest moment of the night, as the moon shines behind a pile of clouds, her mostly black suit makes her almost invisible. Maybe the green jewel in her tiara might give away her position. But that wasn't the point of her suit, yet it's a neat feature to have.

The doors of the hospital look closed, but she has an appointment. One that wasn't made on her terms. The hospital called her with urgent news. Her boyfriend was brought in and looked on the brink of death when he arrived. A doctor who wouldn't specify his name told her on the phone to come as quickly as possible. Of course, halfway through, her car had to break down. In a hurry to reach the hospital in time, she started to sprint for all her worth.

And it pays off when she bangs on the closed glass doors. Someone behind the counter recognizes her and presses a button to manually open the doors. Drenched, she comes in. But that sort of fluid isn't what feels the heaviest burden; it's the tear-soaked face with mascara and eyeliner smeared all over. She pants heavily, understandable after such a sprint.

'I'm here for…'

'I know.' cuts the man behind the counter her off, holding up his left paw to gesture her to calm down. He grabs the horn of the phone nearby him and places it against his ear. 'Doctor Lightheart to the entrance please. Doctor Lightheart to the counter please.'

His voice echoed through the emptiness of the hospital. It went over the speakers. Silence takes over when the man puts the horn back on the device. The man seems very uninterested in how she is doing. He doesn't know her and it seems he's only so cold, is because he has seen enough examples of her. Those who ran towards the aid of their loved ones. The man shuts down any devices still on and even turns off the lights around him. He grabs his coat and hangs it over his shoulder. In the presence of a pleasant tone that he whistles, he leaves her sight.

Only a fraction of a second later, big swing doors to her right open up. A fairly skinny, black hound dog dressed in a doctor's outfit. He wears bloodied gloves, which he takes off as fast as possible. He throws them in a trash can nearby. He turns towards the vixen standing in the dark and nods that he has to follow her. He disappears behind the swing doors as the vixen follows him.

'D-doctor Lightheart?' she asks weeping when she catches up with him. The doctor gives no answer. 'My name is…'

'I know.' It's the second time somebody cuts off. As if something doesn't want her to exclaim her name. 'We spoke over the phone and I've seen her picture.' he continues in a very serious manner.

'How is he doctor?' she asks concerned with a pleading sparkle in her eyes when Lightheart turns his head towards her. He hates to bring even worse news that sparkle. He sighs deep.

'He's even worse than when we called you. It's incredible how he just deteriorated within a week after conformation.' He looks over to the vixen without turning his head. 'If you have a sketch of the room he's in in your head, I should erase that. You can never be prepared for what's in there.'

The image she had in mind was already horrifying. But now Lightheart tells her to expect even worse things?

'L-like what?'

This is a question he didn't want to hear, although he asked for it by playing the pronoun game. He holds his tongue as they walk through the last swing door. Dr Lightheart stops in front of a door that looks different from all the other patient dormitories. A large, rectangle window has been made at the left side of the door but its covered in blankets that look more like rags than actual blankets. It gives an eerie signal off, suggesting that it is even worse.

Lightheart places his right paw on the doorknob before turning to the blue vixen. 'You have to understand that if you enter here, there is no turning back.'

'W-what do you mean?'

'Once you're in the room with him, you cannot leave until he...' He has to swallow hard. '...until he... has passed away.'

The vixen gasps in horror, covering her mouth with her paws. Her legs feel so shuddery and her tail can't curl further up in between her legs. Lightheart opens the door and gestures that she has to go through another. That while he enters a door on the side, leading to a room that was hidden from sight by the blankets. He closes the door behind him, leaving the vixen to struggle with the choice.

Her whole world seems to collapse around her. Darkness and loneliness begin to surround her and begin to suffocate whatever hope she had in her. The lights that are still on above her don't help in reducing the effects. It sucks the radiation up like a black hole where all she ever was tends to dissolve in.

*No... I have to be strong.* she says to herself as she shakes off the incubus and emerges from the surrounding shadows. The door closes behind her but the door before doesn't open. Instead, a local intercom beeps up.

'I see that you want to visit him personally. Can't blame you. I would have done the same. You may enter.'

The door opens and she steps into a largely empty room. But it's not a room like another. This looks like an abandoned workshop with no equipment. The walls are grey and black, smelling like ash and fire. The whole room looks like it suffered an immense explosion without being blown off its hinges.

In the middle, there is the center of attention. A lot of hospital equipment, that's surrounding a bed; the bed where her boyfriend lies on.

'Oh my god...' is the only thing leaving her shaking lips when Krystal sees her mate Fox McCloud being hooked up to a dozen of different machines. They look unpolished and improvised as they pump all sorts of fluid into Fox. When she comes closer, she sees that a tube runs down into his mouth, suggesting that he's on artificial respiration. Multiple infuses are stuck in his arms.

He's being kept alive by all those machines. Krystal can barely stand the look of all this equipment and doubtful liquid that are being pumped into the love of her life. She imagines them as non-existent as she comes closer to Fox's face, hoping that he's still with the living. The heart rate monitor tells her he is, but she doesn't trust that equipment above her own perception.

'Krystal?' sounds the intercom also in this room. It's a lot more hollow and less harsh sounding. 'Can you hear me?'

She only turns her head for a second around to signal she does. 'This is only a one-way system. Meaning you have to follow our instructions very carefully. Do you understand?'

Krystal doesn't react, having Fox carefully in her arms. Her face pressing against his right cheek, with a kiss now and then. Tears flow over her cheeks. She tries to condemn them but something inside of her suggests that Fox would hate that. All that Krystal feels from the hug is the icy cold and stiffness of Fox's body. It's like everything but his warmer face has given up...

There is a little confusion within the control room about Krystal not reacting, but Lightheart can imagine that Krystal doesn't have the slightest interest in what they say that's not linked to Fox in any way.

'Krystal. Fox is conscious at the moment. It varies between minutes or even an hour, but never longer.' Krystal lifts her head slightly, wipes some tears away to look a little presentable as she turns her head towards Lightheart. 'He can still communicate. His vocal chords are surprisingly unaffected by his affection. But you'll have to remove his breathing tube. Since we defiantly need to preserve every brain function, keep it short.'

Krystal understands it by giving a nod before turning to Fox. She places her right paw on Fox's left cheek. It's still warm and it feels nice when compared to other parts of Fox that are frozen solid feeling.

'F-fox?' she asks hesitant. 'Fox... a-are you awake? It-it's me... you Queen of Lylat?' she mentions, hoping that it will spark some life in Fox. It were his convincing last words before he turned into Dyam when the big race, that sent Falco to Aerosol, was over. And it seems to have its planned impact on Fox; very carefully and jittery, his eyes open.

At first, it's nothing more than whiteness that is his sight. But the center breaks up in multiple colors before finally displaying a white he wants to see: Krystal's speechless and glowing with excitement expression.

He tries to talk but the tube in his mouth makes that practically impossible. Krystal quickly but with care, lifts it out of his throat.

'...Hey... Krystal...' he greets very hoarse and already craving for his breathing tube. It's a struggle he would like to overcome but oxygen is a must. He'd exchange that for Krystal at any rate, but he's too tackled for it. Wishing and trying are still a possible though.

Krystal can't believe she hears Fox's voice. It sounds vivid for his utterly depressing situation. Fox may do it a little less vivid as he tries to sit up right out of respect for Krystal. But he's far too weak for it. Krystal has to stop Fox before he falls apart even more. She can understand he hates her guts for that but can also tell that he appreciates on the long run.

Only one thought comes to her mind: 'How could it have come so far?'

(...)

(...)

'GAAAAARK!' he gasps as he almost launches himself up in the air. The exclamation sounds like him breaking free out of all the equipment that has been strapped on to him. But he isn't.

On closer inspection, when looking down, he sees that's he's fully clothed in his uniform. The red scarf sits roomy around his neck and covering the nape of his green shirt. The white jacket he wears over that fits it perfectly. He never was in trouble, never was in any sort of harm.

'It was a fricking nightmare...' he exhales relieved beyond belief. He places his right paw on his forehead, feeling some sweat. He wipes it upwards, into his grown hair. After he took a different road on Sauria, choosing the skies instead of the land life, he let his hair grow a little longer. In hindsight, it might have spun out of control, having a big lock of hair in front of his face.

He wakes up inside a cockpit of a space ship. It's design looks very familiar, but he has no recognition of ever falling asleep here. He doesn't recognize the place the ship is in either. It's too dark to see anything. He looks at the monitors and control board in front of him. Nothing is turned on, no lights are burning and no beeps are heard in his ears. He's standing in complete standstill.

But when looking at the monitor, he does notice a picture of someone in the dusk. It's taped onto a free spot in between the millions of useless buttons and lights. He grabs it and rips it off carefully, bringing it closer to his face.

The sunny, sandy and tropical environment gives up the location. It's on Zoness of course. Pollution in that area was completely cleared from the filth dumped by Andross in the Lylat Wars. But the focus lies on the blue vixen he saw in that nightmare. She wears a red bikini set and is photographed in the midst of a beach volleyball match. She's diving towards the ball, having just enough time to show a slightly open-mouthed smile for the camera. Her left canine is shown, giving a certain cuteness to it. She gives a blink, not noticing in any way that the hook of the bikini bra she's wearing has come off.

He strokes her face with his finger in regret. 'How could it have come so far?'

Somewhat darker nah? Also, I forget a little something at the beginning: My Will is shorter than G-Zero. Still, hope you enjoyed and keep the hate down until it's done. Okay? Okay ;)


	3. Household in the skies above

Told you I was back! The second chapter of My Will that will assure some puzzled fans that everything is kinda okay now. Thanks to GrimlockX4 and bryan mccloud it's error free. Leave that review behind guys.

**Chapter 2: Household in the skies above**

His eyes open again to fade away the black. He must have dozed off after sobbing a little over what used to be.

He awakens a room much more enlightened than he remembered it before. Actually, everything is more enlightened. His head feels floaty and he's able to think more clearly. Looking back on the picture he so dearly sobbed over, he realizes that he might have overdone that slightly. It was also her decision to agree that Fox went back to what he loved doing most: Star Fox, spaceship, laser, BOOM! A warrior can't be chained to the comfort of having a household on land.

He grabs the picture from his lap where it fell on. His thumb covers the place where her swimsuit came loose.

A red glare shines upon his face, making his weak eyes see blurry. He wipes through them and sees that the red glare comes from a small LCD clock that wasn't there before. It's tied to a ribbon that on its turn is tied to the cockpit structure. It displays 8:14 AM, meaning that it's morning.

Before he can start to moan over the early hours, he must first eradicate that annoying hair lock that falls before his right eye. He blows it away with a boost of angry air from his mouth before looking around.

He recognizes this place again: it's the launch bay of the "Krystal Fox" or "Great Fox III" if you must. It's an even cheaper and smaller than the previous motherships. Budget was very scarce when Fox started doing this again. Especially with the controversy around him of being supposedly kidnapped by Sahara from Titania.

He always neglected those accusations, waving them off as gossips to protect Krystal's secret identity. If they were to find out that Sahara was actually Krystal, the hate towards her would be greater than any hate she already gathered from joining Star Wolf back during the Anglar Blitz.

The bay is still very dark and so is the inside of what he deducts is his own Arwing. The special orange and standing out button on the control stick that Ryan placed is still there so it's indeed his Arwing. Though the looks of all other buttons and screens make him doubt that heavily.

The interior of the spaceship looks blown to shreds. Buttons aren't there anymore, fallen off like keys on a keyboard. Screens showing nothing more than static or having cracks in them. When he grabs the control stick to move it around, it feels stiff and unresponsive. It even jolts to random direction on its own.

'Wow! I wouldn't want that in harsh skirmish.' he says to himself, in awe over the sudden discovery. 'Oh Nelly…'

The hair lock is back to irritate him again as the jolt made it fall before his eye again. 'Are you f#cking kidding me?' reads of Fox's facial expression before he reaches for his blaster, holstered on his belt. He places it against his forehead, the barrel aimed at the base of that long lock. One pull of the trigger should be enough but Fox unleashes a burst. If it has to come off, then why not overdo it?

The large lock falls on his lap as the shots fired hit the ceiling of the cockpit without doing any damage. The scent of burnt hair begins to surround him as blackened flax-like hairs whirl down before him. He opens the cockpit slightly and throws out the lock. Whatever hairs are still on his lap, are being mobbed away to occupy the leg room.

The feeling of being free from that wretched thing is thwarted only a few seconds later when a sharp and mercilessly painful sting comes up in his side. It's like millions of bees stab their barbs in at the same damn time.

'Argh… my kidney hurts.' he moans as he exerts pressure on the painful spot. It's not exactly his kidney, but darn close to it. It's a twinge that comes back more often and is always present in his left side. Never in his right side.

The pain somehow reminds him of the fact that he has no idea why he woke up in his Arwing to begin with. He has no memory of anything anymore, except for who is and who he knows.

'Fox McCloud, Falco Lombardi, Slippy Toad, Peppy Hare, Krystal, Wolf O'Donnell…' he repeats to himself to let himself know that he hasn't lost it. Being more comfortable now, he resettles himself in his chair a little better instead of looking like a sagged bag of salt. He knacks his back, which magically cures the twinge. It's a huge relief. He allows himself to fall into the back support with a satisfied feeling.

The answer to why he's in his Arwing comes when an untouched screen asks for an uplink. Someone is contacting him. The screen suggests it's local, so on this ship. And that can be only one person…

'Hey there my Hercules.' greets the sweetest British accented voice Fox establishes the uplink. It's no one other than Krystal. And seeing the cupboards, the sink and the induction stove he can say that she's calling from the kitchen. 'How's it going with the maintenance?'

'M-maintenance?' he answers slurry and overcome with sleep, not having a single clue where Krystal is talking about.

'Yes silly. Your target axis was broken, remember?'

It all comes back to Fox. It comes back as hard as Fox facepalms himself. Krystal giggles over Fox's reaction as his paw slowly drools off his face. He feels so incredibly stupid. How could he forget he was repairing the target axis?

'Yep… I remember that now. I kinda forget it because…' He can't come up with a legitimate reason so he shoves it off on someone who hasn't been around for six years. '…because Slippy usually does it?'

The questioning tone was deliberate, to show Krystal that he still got humor and to show himself that he hasn't lost his mind nor the touch of quick thinking. Krystal can appreciate the humor, laughing this time. It's a cornerstone for Fox; being a big stick to keep him on the right track.

'How is it doing Slippy 2?' she asks not being able to stop laughing.

Fox sniggers over that. He tends not to think too much about Slippy since he heard and received a postcard that he lived on Aquas and was happily married and all that ever after stuff. He also knows where Falco is. Out of jail and currently member of Ryan's band. Falco refused the invitation to join Star Fox again because he and the band went on a little tour across the mainland of Papetoon.

After flipping a few switches, opening the fuel lines and activating the main power, he ignites the engine. But nothing happens. He tries it a few more times before supposedly kicking the bucket.

'Hunk o' junk! Why won't you work!?' shouts Fox agitated.

'Have you opened the G-Diffusers?' suggests Krystal helpful.

'Of course I've opened… (moment of realization) Uuuuuuurraaarggh!' he groans loudly before sinking his stupid face in his paws. He can hear Krystal laughing again and say that he doesn't have to thank her. That it's a pleasure.

Those words mean the world to Fox. Mainly because he feels like he has been busy with his Arwing and Star Fox most of the time. While he should be spending 90% of all his attention on Krystal. Especially waking up inside his Arwing instead of next to her in bed feels like another twinge.

He lifts his head from his paws and with curled lips and a flat expression on his face; he flips the switch that opens the G-Diffusers. When he ignites this time, it really starts. He utters a sigh and reboots the system. The target axis appears as a hologram on the cockpit window and it looks way better than it did yesterday. 30% instead of 5% is a huge improvement. He can lock-on at least.

'Did that fix it?' inquires Krystal already knowing the answer.

'You couldn't read that from my face then?' answers Fox a little sarcastic. 'Heh heh. Urhm... say: why are you up so early?'

'Because my big man could use the right proteins to continue his manly work, doesn't he?'

Fox has a little laughter over it before he starts to scratch the back of his head. The way he felt before turning the Arwing on comes back. Krystal does so much for him and yet he feels like he has been using her as a dirty rag to clean up the mess.

'Hey Krys?' he approaches carefully.

'Yes Fox?'

'Uhmm… how do I say this properly… do you ever feel as if…'

_**VIDEO UPLINK REQUESTED! **_is suddenly screeched by the computer. The screen Krystal is on is split in half as the logo of the Cornerian Army appears on the newly formed screen. Fox establishes the uplink and sees General Pepper on the screen.

'Good morning General.' greets Fox with a quick salute. 'What's new?' he asks before crossing his arms on the controls and sinking his head into them uninterested.

'Nothing much.' says the good General humble. He rasps his throat before telling Fox that Peppy resigned and gave his position back to him. 'Furthermore, I'm being kept alive thanks to the most modern of medicines and devices.'

'That's good news General. Someone of your expertise should never leave command of the army.' says Fox lifting his head from his crossed arms. 'But I reckon that's not the reason you were calling?'

Fox's attitude is noticed by Pepper. 'What is it Fox? Hope I'm not interrupting serious business?'

Fox points slightly to Pepper's right. When Pepper orders a visual on what's on his right, he sees it's Krystal in the kitchen.

'Hello there Krystal. I see I did interrupt something.' he admits on an apologizing tone.

'It is of no matter General. Fox and I were just talking.'

The General turns to Fox again, turning off the visual on Krystal. 'Fox. It's time to get a little more serious. Sit upright please.'

'Pfff…' puffs Fox resistant as he lifts his arms and throws them behind his back, sitting more upright but still not like Pepper meant. The General takes it as it is.

'We need Star Fox again Fox.' says the General outright.

This sounds like music to Fox's ears. With a new fee coming in, he can finally repair his Arwing properly. Therefore, spending less time in that biscuit tin and more on Krystal. Waking up to the sight of her face instead of a skewered interior.

But there's something fishy about it. The fees they have received so far were only good for maybe a new wing flap. Not nearly enough for the entire maintenance necessary.

From optimistic to somewhat uninterested again, Fox replies: 'Lylat's isn't in peril, is it General?'

'No Fox. It isn't.' says the General, confirming Fox's suspicion. He hates to bring it to him, but ever since the Anglars came, nothing really happened of a Lylatian magnitude. And giving Fox that illusion is against his personal code.

Fox starts to groan again before letting the General finish. 'Is it another escort mission General?' he asks quickly in between.

'Yes Fox. It is.' confirms Pepper. 'We are currently transporting weapons and medicine to Papetoon through two transport ships. This is to update the army stationed on that planet as well as delivering the most cutting-edge devices to the Papetoonian hospital. Yes, they are kinda instable, but they are able to keep a person alive.'

'The Cornerian Army doesn't have their own escort ships?' inquires Fox thinking this is only logical. If the Cornerian Army needs those new weapons and medicine, why not protect it yourself?

'We already sent both Bulldog and Husky squad to escort them. However, we fear the presence of pirates in the area.' A picture of a mad-looking, brown furred wolf comes up next to Pepper. 'This is Dominican. Rumors go around that he plans to steal the supplies we transport in order to supply the Empress Elizabeth!'

Fox knows this ship. It's a legendary ship, thought to have never existed. It was Andross's baby during the Lylatian Wars, but it failed to reach lift off. When the Cornerian forces landed on Venom after the war, it was gone however. There was no sign of it being scrapped or moved somewhere else.

'Alright then.' concedes Fox with some reluctance to yet another unsatisfying and obligatory mission. 'Count us in Gen…'

Before Fox can finish his sentence, he gets a message from Krystal on his phone. Connected to his earpiece, a computerized voice reads the message for him.

_Let that General do his yapping and then come join me for your favorite breakfast. Winky face._

As Fox looks over to Krystal, he sees her ridiculing the General's seriousness by pretending to be him. Very overdone of course. As the Pepper keeps on going on how it's vitally important that this transport reaches Papetoon safely, Krystal hangs herself on an imaginary noose out of sheer boredom.

'Did you catch all of that Fox?' suddenly breaks through Fox's entertainment. He reacts a little panicky, as if he was caught stealing a cookie from the tin while mom forbid that.

'Oh uhm. Yes General. Escort the transports, kill pirates and watch out for that Dominican guy.'

'In a nutshell yes. Now Fox, the ships will arrive at your location in 2 hours but I want you in your Arwings now and flying towards their current location.' orders Pepper.

That's something Fox didn't expect and doesn't want. He just got an invitation to have breakfast with Krystal. When he tells this to the General, he declines it. Saying that any hungry stomach must make way for the importance of this transport.

Fox is in dubio over the choice he has. If he rejects the General, he might not get the mission. And even if, the General could easily half the payment. On the other hand, he could give Krystal the impression that he cares more about Star Fox than about her.

'Foxy.' she says seductive. 'Your breakfast is ready.'

She doesn't make it any easier on Fox's dwelling and split-up mind. Her tone suggests that she has more for Fox than just breakfast to eat out.

After some cringing and grating of the teeth, Krystal's face and upper body come closer to the camera. She breaths on the glass, fogging it up. She draws a heart in it. In the lining, her eye appears. She gives him a flirty wink of the eye, which sparkles bright afterward.

Fox makes up him mind immediately. 'General. Count us in. But in an hour. My breakfast is waiting for me.' He opens the cockpit and mounts himself over the edge. 'That should be a comprise, wouldn't you agree General?'

This leaves the General speechless as Fox lands on a dusty catwalk leading back to the kitchen and improvised living room. The dust coats the lower part of his pants and his boots. With time and the element of Pepper's astonishment being his friends, he cleans them up before looking below.

Because below that catwalk where he's standing on, is a layer of protective and transparent glass. It shows outer space, with Fortuna below them. It's a beautiful sight for sore and just awoken eyes.

He turns to his Arwing again after getting out. With his paw on the cockpit, ready to shut it like car trunk, he takes one final look at the General. His eyes have followed him all the way. 'I expect the payment in a few hours.' he ends cocky with a winked "tch".

Before General Pepper can react, Fox ends the transmission. He closes the cockpit like the trunk he wants it to be and walks off casually. But remembers someone important.

He rushes back to the cockpit and sees that, luckily, Krystal is still on the line. The screen is still split, leaving a black space where Pepper used to be. Still in that cocky mood, Fox uses it that blackness as a mirror to make his hair a little more decent.

'Had a quick haircut honey?' asks Krystal funny. 'I heard the gunshot.'

'Uh huh.' reacts Fox offset. 'It's a rushed I know.' His eyes move over Krystal. 'But so was the General.'

She sighs relieved. She thought that Fox would hold her responsible for the rough treatment he gave the General. And that because of her tempting offer. But Fox keeps his cool and his humor and reacted like this.

'He was indeed, wasn't he?'

'Maybe he should really retire.' suggests Fox not meaning the littlest of it. 'Peppy is more than capable to replace him.'

'Are you kidding me? If he retires, he'll fall apart.' claims Krystal concerning the amount of machinery and medicine necessary to keep that hound dog standing. 'Besides, Peppy is a lazy hog. Baking in the sun of Zoness with a fancy iced tea don't you think?'

'Hahaha! I know right? Hey listen, I'll be coming over to you. I'm gonna hug you from behind, whispers some sweet words in your ear and maybe give you a smooch in your neck. Or two.'

'Hmmm… sounds good Fox. I can't wait.' she says aroused as she can already feel Fox's grip around her.

Krystal turns off the screen before she gets too aroused for Fox to have some fun. Fox notices this thanks to the tomato red blush that appears on Krystal's face before she turned it off. He laughs in himself and closes the cockpit.

He starts to casually walk towards the door leading to the kitchen. It isn't open while it should be.

'Looks like someone's sleeping on the job?' he says asking as he turns to a security camera that follows him around on the ceiling.

He knocks thrice on the wall left to him, hearing a hollow sound coming from it echo through the empty bay. It's meant to alert a certain AI that has been around ever since Star Fox was first created: ROB. The robot has been hardwired to the mothership like before, but this time it cannot be seen unless maintenance is performed. He's now part of the core, resting in the middle of the ship.

'Get your head outta your ass ROB.' shouts Fox through the knocking.

The robot wakes up from its sleep mode and gets his hands on the controls. He brings the microphone before him closer to his mouth, being nothing more than a till look-alike.

'It seems you are awake Fox. A very good morning to you.' greets the robot in his monotone voice over the intercom.

'Good to hear from you too my metal friend. Now be a doll and open up the door will ya?'

'Absolutely.' ROB does as asked and the door 5 meters before Fox opens up within a second. But that's not really what ROB wanted to say. 'Are you feeling well Fox?'

Fox knows he's aiming at the twinges he regularly has. 'I'm feeling fantastic ROB. Just gimme a free way to Krystal and I'll be even better, mkay?' he ends his sentence as he walks towards his household in the skies above, not on the ground.

A household in the skies above. Be honest: who many of you though that Fox was separated from Krystal a second time?  
I hope you liked it and stick close for another chapter soon on its way. I'm back BABY!


	4. Krystalized

Phantom R.D.S. Foxx is back with another chapter of My Will. Hopefully you are all enjoying yourself. The story hasn't really taken off the way I wanted it but I guess my absence had to do with that. Anyway, enjoy the lastest!

If any mistakes are made, please PM me. Leave a review without mentioning mistakes. If it can be between us, that would be brilliant.

**Chapter 3: Krystalized **

An eerie atmosphere lingers around a barely lightened hallway that Fox walks through. The door to back to the catwalk is already meters behind him.

The eerie feeling is unusual but ever since a specific person came aboard again, despite her wish to stay on land, that atmosphere is justified. As he walks towards the end of the hallway, he sees the windows letting in the only light into the hallway.

They give an astounding, breathtaking view of Lylat's own Fortuna and asteroid belt close by it. It seems that the Krystal Fox has lowered itself a little in the time that he had no visual on it. He can't recall any time where he thought about the planet, or even Lylat in that way. Maybe back at the launch bay, but this particular sight makes Fox philosophical.

He approaches the window, shaped bulging outwards. It's safe to stand on as it easily repels off lasers. Having the bravery to step on it while having a fear of stepping on it, still fall through and then start decomposing in space is a whole other thing.

Fox sets himself over that small problem without any real trouble. He looks at the side of Fortuna that's visible to him. It's the east side of the planet if looked at from Corneria. It gives a more grey than green appearance. And Fox knows very well why.

After the presence of Andrew Oikonny during the Aparoid Invasion, the planet's ecosystem was blown to shreds, shot to shit, burned to the ground and broken into pieces. The bases he build, the factories that he utilized, the underground railroads and the roads for transport all contributed to the destruction of the ecosystem.

When the Cornerian Army came to bring peace after Star Fox had swept over it with lasers and nova bombs, they established a protected zone. No forests were to be chopped down, no fishing and no hunting the wildlife. This all to make sure that Fortuna would be the fortune rich planet for nature it always was.

Between the liberation and now, Fox had no idea what 9 to 10 years of his absence could have done to that protective zone. When the zone was established, people started coming there. Tourism became a huge profit for the local cities and rural towns. So it was only common that they would exploit that. They opened special parks with specialized wildlife and flora that would fit the theme of the park. In the shadows, they made deals that the Cornerian Army would back off in exchange for a grossing of the park profits.

Under the motto of "Give us your hard-earned cash and help save the forests of Fortuna", villa's and holiday parks were built after the trees that stood in the way were chopped down. They served as material for those parks. The army and local authorities just stood and gazed upon it happening. Behind their backs, a small stack of money was handed to them as long as they kept staring, drooling at the travesty that happened before their eyes. Tourism was never more hypocritical: saving the trees by chopping them down.

Everything went really wrong when the parks mutual competition got heavier. They started importing species that were never part of Fortuna's ecosystem. These invasive wildlife and flora killed off the diverse species already present. And when the corruption underneath the Cornerian forces became known by the Lylatian Board, all were recalled.

In the eyes of the Board, Fortuna was left to be forgotten and to stew in their own unstable soup. Tourism to that part of Fortuna was forbidden and the bill saying that was passed around 13 ALW, one year before the Anglar Blitz. That side of Fortuna was deemed lost by the general public, influenced by widespread media. They showed Fortuna as the shining and proud example of nature in Lylat, the pinnacle in Cornerian peace and reconstruction. A mess covered by crystalized wrapping paper.

The parks, because of the bill and their oblivion, couldn't pay their bills and had to hastily bail out whatever money they could safe. Leaving behind thousands of dupes with villa's, holiday homes, bills and loans that they couldn't pay on their turn to the local banks. The cities and towns that were so happy with the tourists and the new inhabitants couldn't wait until those tax evaders and non-payers were gone.

The stew took a full year to finally erupt in violence. By then, the towns looked like nothing more a favela or any other slum. Only the cities looked somewhat presentable. Also, the Anglars attacked. Turning what were rusty, dirty but still standing houses to ashes. It was a quick sweep; much like Star Fox did four years back.

Once Star Wolf for that matter bested the Anglars, the Lylatian Board reevaluated the Papetoon Zone Case. Since the explicit and nasty details ended up on the street thanks to the messy way documents were handled during the Blitz, the Board send the Cornerian Army back to Papetoon to restore order and establish a local government that would oversee the resurrection of what was once there: peace, quiet and forest.

But as Fox looks at that side of Papetoon from up in space, he sees that nothing has been accomplished in the five to six years since the return on the army. It wouldn't surprise him if the Board already turned their backs on it again. He grabs his phone and feels obligated to call a buddy of him that is currently there.

The dial tone lets him know that the other end is receiving. It takes three tones before he gets a male, discouraged voice on the line.

'Hey Ryan. How is it there?' asks Fox having the idea that it isn't peachy by a longshot.

It takes a few seconds for Ryan to answer. When he does, it almost sounds like he bursted into tears. 'It's tropical Fox. In every sense of that word.'

Fox is already regretting this but he asks it anyway, against better judgment. 'Tropical as in?'

Ryan answers with a phoned laugh. You can clearly distinguish his laughter with someone more serious. It has that cynical tone to it. 'Tropical… as in my clothing sticking to my skin. Tropical as in I've been oozed dry by an army of mosquitos.'

'I reckon I don't have to ask how you're doing?' asks Fox double-minded, already having his hand scratching the back of his head.

'No you don't!' shouts Ryan suddenly peppered. 'Here's dumb me thinking that a tour of my band across the equator of Fortuna was to be considered a good idea. Only one thing: it's wasn't! From the airfield on, me and the rest have been crammed into a minivan without proper seatbelts or suspension. My ass and my head hurts from all the bumping, the driver has no idea what the word "English" means and I've seen people living in houses composed of nothing more than cow dung! So **FUCK NO** I'm not doing well!'

It's silent on the other side. All Fox can hear is the dumping Ryan mentioned and Ryan's breathing. It's getting calmer and less hasty, suggesting that he himself is calming down.

'Fox... I'mma... I'm sorry for falling out at you. I didn't...' He chokes on his own apology. 'Just sorry man.' is all he can say.

'No worries man. I get it.'

'Don't wave it away like that Fox. It's like that thing with Sara all over again. Listen, when I'm not busy with band stuff, how about I come over to check on that Krystal Fox of yours?'

'Sounds like a plan Ryan. I've currently accepted a mission so after that?'

'I'll be there Fox.'

Ryan hangs up as Fox puts the phone back in his pocket. Fox turns away from the sight of Fortuna as he has other business to attend to: Krystal.

The door to the kitchen is ajar, making Fox's entrance quiet to surprise Krystal. Unintentionally, she surprises him when Fox sees that she's wearing nothing more than her panties and an apron that covers her front; not the back.

Her butt is the most perfect he has ever seen and had his hands on. Only a handful have the voluptuousness of a goddess combined with the tightness of a beginning pornstar. A perfect blend of lust and that "little trouble to get in but once in" feeling.

Silent as the dead, Fox stalks over to Krystal who still has her back, luckily for two reasons, turned to Fox. She's busy cooking something. Fox can hear something spatter and sputter in whatever Krystal is churning in with a spatula. He has an idea what it is when fumes coming from the red-hot pan enter his nostrils.

By then, Fox is almost able to stick his nose in between her buttocks. But he doesn't want to be seen as so perverted and desperate for some booty. Though it's very tempting, Fox abandons that and goes for the plan he already had in mind: hugging her from behind, whispers some sweet words in her ear and maybe giving her a smooch in her neck. Or two.'

'Good morning my Queen.' he greets with an improvised Panther Caruso voice as he locks his arms around Krystal's middle. Krystal is startled at first, not having heard Panther's in forever and then suddenly being grabbed from behind. But when she sees it is Fox, she can only laugh.

'Oh Fox. Why did you do that?' She wanted it to come out a little angrier but she can't help that Fox is already underneath her apron, rubbing her belly. And when he begins to leave those promised smooches in the left side of her neck, she goes completely wild inside.

'With that voice coming out of my mouth with this body… isn't that the complete package?' he whispers in her ear. Krystal can feel one paw go down under while the other goes up to her bosom.

'Aren't you a bad boy…? Auwie! That was just plain mean.' she remarks after Fox bit her lightly with his canines. She didn't really mind it. It just shows that Fox is still Fox. In other words the horndog she fell for. 'How did I taste?' she asks teasing as her loose paw strokes Fox's left cheek.

Fox rests his head on her shoulder and looks at what Krystal is preparing for him. It's indeed his favorite: eggs and bacon. Well… more like egg and bacon + bacon. With more bacon than eggs of course.

'A man you like needs his proteins' were Krystal's words of agreement when Fox carefully asked for more. Krystal is proud of her cooking though she hates to admit it. Being more independent than the common housewife, she always shoves it away. Until critique hits the scene. Then she'll defend it, armed to the teeth if necessary.

'Not sure Krys. I'll have to compare that with that masterpiece you're baking right here.' claims Fox as he rests his chin lightly on Krystal's shoulder.

'Then take your seat big boy. I'll be joining you in a moment.' she promises with a wink.

A little reluctant but already excited, Fox lets go of Krystal's belly and walks towards the table. He was close to her private parts but he knows he gets another shot later on. If this mission goes smooth, he might be able to squeeze in a quickie before Ryan comes. Then he'll have something else to talk about other than just Star Fox business equating to Ryan's usual band and SWAT business.

He takes his seat, leaving only chair to be left alone. The chairs look pretty futuristic, shaped like a sleek "5" with the top bar missing. Would be uncomfortable for your spinal cord and neck if that were poking in the back of 'em. They are transparent and look like they are made out of glass. While they are actually made out of a material, whose name was too complicated for Fox to remember, that acts like regular fabric-made or leather chairs.

The table is of the same design with a round top on top of a single, thick stand. It's adjustable to three different heights: normal, high and abnormally high. Once Fox understands the purpose of that, he'll be resting in his grave for 1000 years already.

A faint thud wakes him up from his daydreaming. It's Krystal, putting the frying pan in the middle of the table with one paw, while putting an empty white plate in front of Fox. In an act of instant artistic nature, she puts the egg in the middle of a bacon-shaped heart.

'You're way too kind Krystal.' compliments Fox who feels that "spending too little on Krystal" feeling suddenly boiling up his blood and chewing on his conscience. As Krystal sits down on the other chair, Fox decides to drop the question. And after a mouthful of bacon, he does that.

'Hey Krystal? Can I ask you something?' he starts off a little insecure after swallowing the remainder of bacon that was still in his mouth down.

'Of course Fox. What is it?' she replies sweet.

'I wanted to ask you this back in the Arwing already but… do you feel neglected by me?' Krystal can tell that by the serious tone in which Fox brings this, it's of genuine concern. 'I mean… with me spending most of my time working on my Arwing and Star Fox and such… do you?'

Krystal does feel a little neglect from Fox. She misses his presence around her during the daytime and nighttime. When she's sitting on the couch with her man not being the pillow where her bored head can rest during a comedy marathon that turned out to by sleazy and tiresome. During lunch hours and especially in bed at night.

Sex is really the only way of romantic satisfaction she got from Fox in the days since it went downwards with Star Fox. When the budget ran out and the fees couldn't keep up with the costs, they had to cut things.

Fox started following classes on maintenance from professionals and he did a lot of "outside" work with Ryan. Modifying old cars into hovering machines and scrap metal into something that can actually move. Both are still in the demo phase of things.

She was responsible for energy conserving and lowering the general costs by getting rid of the all the unnecessary luxury. She made sure that electricity was 30% cheaper thanks to an auto-shutdown program for ROB, energy saving light bulbs and a TV that displayed quality while not slurping all the power of the Krystal Fox.

Both were absolutely necessary but it did drive them apart more. Thanks to different locations, mismatching schedules and death-lines that everyone had to catch. And were Krystal's efforts had an end, Fox's hadn't.

Maintenance was of the highest necessity every time after a mission. Sooner than later, money started becoming an issue again when the missions, even those simple escort missions, became less sought-after. Criminality was sitting on ice with absolute zero as its temperature. Maintenance for something simple that would normally cost around an hour, suddenly took several. If only a tad bigger, it would take a day or so.

Seconds have passed by since Fox has asked her that question. "Neglect" is a large word and she therefore doesn't want to use it. Fox is nervously poking his fork in a strip of bacon, not hungry until Krystal releases him from this limbo.

'I'd prefer if you were to call it "necessary omitting" instead of neglecting me Fox.' says Krystal, breaking the silence to Fox's relief. 'Of course I feel left out. I miss you around me. What you did in the kitchen is a rarity compared to months ago.' she lets out, emptying her heart.

'It is that we're no longer on Sauria, right?' Fox doesn't want to pull the role of a victim to him with it but intentionally does that.

'No Fox. It's not that; believe me when I say it isn't.' dismisses Krystal to a Fox who's becoming a little down now. She can sense his shame as if it were a brick wall standing only oh so close to the tip of her nose. 'Fox please. It isn't that.'

'Can you tell me then how I can be closer to you again?' says Fox with a raised voice and a sad tone. He nearly knocks this plate of the table when he shoves it aside, not hungry for Krystal's masterpiece. 'I can't live like this. The choices… the money issues… my "necessary omitting" of you… the shit missions Pepper puts us up to…'

He rises from the table and grabs his head, turning his back on Krystal. 'I hate this. I hate the pain it causes. The trouble.' he whimpers before he slams his cramped fist against the wall before him. He ponders towards the living room and pinches his nasal bone in distress.

'I never wished for something like this to happen. This is something I wouldn't wish my biggest enemy.'

He turns around to find Krystal standing face to face with him. As his love looks him right in the eye, straight into the soul to unravel the Rubik's cube, the Gordian knot that is Fox's thoughts.

'I love you Krystal.' is all that leaves his lips when Krystal took care of the knot by simply burning it to ashes with her Krystalized capabilities of making Fox comfortable.

'All I needed to hear Fox.' she says on the same emotional level as Fox before giving him a kiss where fireworks come from. Both feel the sparkling, the determination for being around each other but above all the mutual love and chemistry that lingers between the two.

Fox's chin rests again upon Krystal's shoulder; the right one this time as they embrace. Both are on the edge of getting teary eyed.

'Everything is going to be alright Fox. I promise you that. I'll always be your Queen, even if I have to crawl and struggle in the dirt, oil and scrap with you.' vows Krystal hugging her mate even tighter. 'Through blood and dirt and bone…'

'Heh heh…' snickers Fox sobbing, relating to a song that he kinda forced her to listen to. That was after chasing her around for about a half hour only to put the headphones on. 'Through blood and dirt and bone Krystal.'

In his turn, he tightens the hug as well. From afar, they might seem just like one. A perfect, loving merge. Much like swans making a heart with their head and necks during a sunset.

'Urgh… I can't believe I'm starting to cry.' says Fox wiping a few beginning tears away. 'Who am I? Edward Cullen?'

'Don't bring Twilight into this household.' remarks Krystal as Fox lifts his head of her shoulder. She presses on Fox's nose to emphasize her remark. 'Don't bring that into our household… okay?'

'Sniff… of course my Queen. I wouldn't want you to turn into Bella all of the sudden. I can't stand her.'

Glad that she and Fox can ramble about a hugely overrated and feigned teen-romance movie between a mouth-breather and her 107-ish year old boyfriend, they return to the table on the words _I can't either_ with a wink at the end. Fox throws his left arm over her shoulder as she lies her head on his shoulder.

If any mistakes are made, please PM me. Leave a review without mentioning mistakes. If it can be between us, that would be brilliant.

Cute huh? Making fun of Twilight while solving a relationship issue. This is my second time really introducing, guiding and resolving a problem like this. I'm pretty proud of it. However, your opinion is worth far more. LEAVE A REVIEW, FAVORITE AND/OR FOLLOW!


	5. Onerous beginnings

I apologize for the lack of another chapter but a lot of things got in the way. A cremation, tragic accidents and critique have kept me quite busy the last couple of days. However, I bring you what should have been finished yesterday: CHAPTER 4! Credits to Zewing for helping me on.  


If any mistakes are made, please PM me. Leave a review without mentioning mistakes. If it can be between us, that would be brilliant.

**Chapter 4: Onerous beginnings**

He grips both his paws around the black iron banisters of the catwalk as he stares, slightly bend over, into the vastness of space that is his Lylat system. The system that he has saved ever since he was 18. Again some eight years later when Sauria threatened to blow apart and a year after that with the Aparoid Invasion.

In between that, there were somewhat more trivial missions. Escorts of big, bulky and of course unarmed transport ships combined with fun but quickly tedious becoming shooting galleries that were supposed to be the enemies. But always for the good and the safety of Lylat, no matter how small significance solar system-wise it may have had.

And he's about to do it again. The first mission since a week or so, he can't quite remember. He wasn't really busy with it so to say. With all the worries circling Krystal and the duration and increasing difficulty of the maintenance, missions weren't his biggest concern. Moreover, it wasn't only emotional burden he has experienced, but also psychical ones.

Mainly the twinges in his left side. Those were nothing more than annoying at best, but soon turned into a real pest. He hasn't told Krystal about it yet. He could over-worry that poor woman with him suddenly complaining about something niggling in his side.

Another concern is his memory. He forgets things when he wakes up. And it's getting harder every day to remember even basic things. Like how to move a finger or even how certain things are called. That's why he couldn't remember why he was in the Arwing in the first place; why he wasn't with Krystal.

Of both concerns is Krystal completely oblivious. The only one he ever told it was ROB. Because he could order that robot to shut his trap about it to others; even Krystal in the rare case she were to ask.

ROB gave him simple exercises in order to train his memory. Like an app on his phone to name colors, shapes and everyday objects. And every time Fox would wake up, he either had to perform a name check or a muscle exercise. This morning, it was naming up a few names of those that were of influence in his life.

As for the twinges, ROB wanted to take some samples from Fox. Both saliva and blood-based. But Fox declined those offers and seeing as ROB has to obey what Fox commands him, he can only suggest it to Fox once in a while. The reason why he asked how Fox was doing an hour ago in the launch bay, before Fox had the conversation with Krystal.

'Speaking of the she-devil…' says Fox to himself with a dusky smile when he hears the door of the launch bay open up. The clicking of familiar heels on the iron catwalk echo through the bay, towards his ears. It fills the bay with a trusted and loving feeling that burns away the eeriness that Fox felt earlier. That thanks to that talk they had back at the table and in the living room.

He turns his head to the right to see that Krystal is indeed on the catwalk and walking towards him in what can only be described as the sexiest manner ever. Excitement as well as the temperature are rising in and around Fox with every step she comes closer to him.

Her blue-black and skin-tight suit really nails displaying and emphasizing her own beauty. The way, the lustful way she looks at Fox when she whips her hair back from before her eyes, is enough to get you a never-ending nosebleed. Especially given the idea that she's wearing nothing below it…

She joins Fox at the barristers of the catwalk, bending over as well and leaning on her paws. 'Getting philosophical again?' asks Krystal with a quirky smirk on her face.

'All because of you.' blames Fox quasi. 'You thought me how to look at things a little diff…eren…tly?' he adds before stopping two times in the pronunciation of "differently" because he feels something in his mouth. He reaches inside his mouth and pulls out a few white hairs.

'Don't look at me Fox.' says Krystal in defense when he does. 'You were the one getting a little munch-kin on my neck in the kitchen.'

'Is that a Cerinian pun I'll never ever get?' comments Fox as he flicks the hairs away. They slowly twirl downwards in spiral before landing on top of his Arwing that is ready to be launched. As if it wasn't hairy enough.

Krystal just giggles at Fox's comment. It gives Fox the opportunity to ask ROB how much time is left before the deadline; before they have to get up in the air.

'Four minutes left until Arwing launch.' reports ROB already preparing the ignition regulations. A mechanical arm comes closer to the exhaust of the ship as it holds an unlit torch.

Cutting the budget also meant that the Arwing launch had to be simplified. Even when the engine of the Arwing itself is on, it would not emit the blue exhaust as it always did. The ignition parts have been sold and now the Krystal Fox has to do it manually with a torch. It's creating a simple fire to light the fuse. It's a dangerous procedure because once lit, there is no way of turning it off again. Unless Fox or Krystal would cut the fuel. But that would cause the engine to drown in fuel because it would have nowhere else to go.

So far, no accidents have happened and Star Fox has adapted this method like it was there to begin with. It was something Fox couldn't worry about for once. Thanks to a well-choreographed cooperation between the ignition and the launch bay doors, nothing ever went wrong.

'Light it up then ROB.' answers Fox observing as the torch comes closer with all this in the back of his head. He turns his head to Krystal. 'Are you ready for another round?' he asks lightly wavering.

'W-why that negative tone of "here we go again"? Are you afraid of going to space all the sudden?' asks Krystal a little mocking.

'No. It's not that. It's that if we ace this mission, something I have no doubt in happening, that everything starts all over again. With the new money, I'll have to repair the ship, keep ROB oiled up and update the security… and computers… and…'

He's getting wheezy even from calling his responsibilities out loud. He feels the pressure coming back at him. Like an avalanche that comes over him. Something he just can't take.

'Oh Fox.' remarks Krystal emphatic, coming closer. 'Your worrying is absolutely terrible. It's even worse than when you kicked me off.' She doesn't really know what to say to comfort Fox. He seems far gone, up to his neck in the anxiety. 'If even our conversation didn't work… are you feeling fit for flying anyway?'

'That's not it Krystal.' says Fox with the same raised voice as before. 'It is that we are going to be right back where we started. Then the whole thing we talked about would have been for absolutely nothing other than a good insight in how phony our commits to each other were.'

This is not how Krystal has to see Fox. She has to see him as a strong, capable leader who's a little naughty with her at the right time. But as Fox is now, he's nothing more than a wreck.

'I'd hate to do this Fox… but…' she says hesitant before slapping Fox in the face.

Fox nearly loses his balance as she stumbles to stay upright. He covers his hurt cheek with his right paw. He can feel how warm it is, how the blood is pumping through his veins. It also reminds him of a slap he once received from Krystal when he was in conflict over who was in control: Dyam or Fox himself?

'Wh-what was… that?' says Fox overblown as he turns to Krystal. She looks regretful for what she did at first, but then stays strong. The reason why she slapped him was to serve as a wake-up call for Fox.

'That was for your kitty-cat behavior Fox!' she yells with a stern face. 'You're acting way too protective. Over me, over the Krystal Fox and over your own wellbeing. And I can't just stand here and watch you deteriorate yourself while my kind words are of no help whatsoever!'

Her yelling causes her to tear up a little. The sternness breaks up before Fox's disbelieving eyes. She hates going into a rage fit, against Fox especially. And hitting him like that was something that took a lot. Krystal swallows hard, as she continues delivering the bitter pill that goes down Fox's, as well as down her own throat.

'And I'm also breaking down from the inside Fox, don't forget that. Seeing you collapse makes me do the exact same.' she remarks before emotion and sniff reflexes get the better of her ability to speak. She turns her left shoulder on Fox and hides her crying face from him.

'Krystal… I…'

'And another thing…' she brings up when there is a break in between the sniffing. 'This might seem to you like "your" trouble. But don't forget that "your" is composed of "you" and "our". Through blood and dirt and bone, but not y-**_ours_**.'

The two remain silent for an agonizing while. Fox is getting consumed on the inside by guilt and the panic Krystal mentioned. At the same time, Krystal can't believe that she hit Fox. Even with good reason.

'Two minutes till launch.' proclaims ROB breaking through the silence. 'Are the two of you okay?' he asks looking at the tense situation through the security cameras.

Fox turns his head to one of the cameras and waves it away, telling ROB not to interfere. He has made up his mind as he turns back to Krystal.

'Krystal… I'm sorry. I had no idea that it was so deep-seated. I guess you really wanted to stay with "necessary omitting" huh?'

'Yeah… unfortunately that couldn't be the case.' she groans not looking at Fox. 'But I guess this was necessary.' she concludes after some having thought of her own.

'Hunh?' grunts Fox staggered.

'At least the both of us now know how we stand.' She gets a small and secure smile on her face as she looks at Fox. 'I think that makes our vows to each other true wouldn't it?'

Fox hasn't looked at it that way. Besides, his cheek hurts like all hell. That unexpected slap came as blessing to say the least. All that panic and anxiety gone for a while in exchange for some pain. And when Krystal puts her soft and cool feeling paw on the sore spot, even that pain melts away.

He places his own paw on hers while staring down her crystal blue eyes. In the light of Fortuna that comes in the picture through the glass underneath, her eyes sparkle even brighter than they ever did. If they can fight their way through even their deepest feelings, then they can conquer everything.

'I love you Fox. I always have and always will.' she confesses as she takes Fox's middle in her arms, hugging it tightly. 'But promise me that you'll stop acting like a whiny.'

'I love you too Krystal. We're gonna get through this. I'll better myself... for you and our situation.' states Fox encouraging to show Krystal that he still sees things positively, even when all seems so dark. That he's still the guy she fell for.

'One minute until ignition!' proclaims ROB at the wrong point in time. Both Krystal and Fox groan at the fact that they have to let go of each other for the mission. But when they look at each other and realize that they groaned at the same time, they snicker and head towards their ships.

'See you space cowboy.' she winks as she takes the elevator attached to the catwalk down to her ship, that's underneath Fox's. Fox takes only a few stairs down to end up on the same catwalk he already walked on. He opens the cockpit and jumps in.

All equipment looks exactly like when they were an hour ago. But for the eyes of Fox, the mess is suddenly not so a burden as something he and Krystal can fight through together.

'20 seconds until launch.' broadcasts ROB more calm because Fox and Krystal are all ready for it. He opens the launch bay doors. Enormous steel plates, comparable to behemoths, open up and reveal millions of stars far away along with blackness.

'All seem in order here Fox.' comments Krystal after a system check on the video screen. 'How about you? Anything you wanna get of your chest before we go?'

'Well, I could just blame this all on the face that I didn't want to bring shame on the name McCloud?'

Krystal shakes his head laughing. 'Oh no Fox. No way I would have bought that. Even with whipped cream on top, you wouldn't get that down my throat.'

'I know what would...' suggest Fox raising his eyebrows.

'Rawr...' she growls aroused, already feeling her throat getting soaked and more narrow. It's just waiting for it! 'Oh Fox you're such a horndog at times.'

'Ain't that the truth ya little slut.' he answers teasing. 'But... shall we just focus on getting out of this bay alive instead for bedtime stories?' says Fox in a way that it comes back right at Krystal. As if she began it all.

'You jerk! You started this, not me. But okay: how is your target axis doing?'

Mrrrgh...' groans Fox trying to get the target axis to work properly and to deviate his attention from picturing Krystal the way he likes her to be.

The axis is a little glitchy in appearance and is only on 20% power. Flipping several switches and finally pressing the right button, to Fox's relief, resolves the glitchy nature of the axis and displays it on the cockpit window without any problems.

'35% on the target axis, fuel 99% and the Lock-On seems operational. It's the perfect setup!' he concludes trying to sound self-assured and trusty of the situation.

He lifts his thumb up next to his cheek to show he's having faith while his face wants to slam itself into the dashboard monitor. Krystal giggles at Fox sarcastic facial expression but does give the impression that he has to man up now.

'Enough baby behavior Fox. We have bad guys to fight.'

'So right you are Krystal. ROB, enlighten me!' orders Fox euphoric as only a second later the fire on both torches are lit. At the same time, the door behemoths have opened completely.

'Cloud Runner away!' proclaims ROB the moment the exhaust turns bright blue.

'Here we goooooOOOOO...!' shouts Krystal having to experience the intense G-forces as the Arwing blasts away at lightning speed from underneath Fox. He just watches her go, being nothing more than a teeny tiny dot a few seconds later.

He grips his controls tightly and pulls them back with immense power. With all the fuel lines open, the flammable gasses come out of the exhaust, meeting the lit torch halfway. A fiery explosion ensues and is gushes back towards the exhaust at an extreme speed.

But something is wrong. All Fox feels is that the Arwing is getting bumped from behind. It's not even a hard bump. Then, a horrible sound comes from the exhaust, sounding like blown muffler. He's standing completely still in the launch bay

'Oh god no...' he complains, burying his face in his paws. He can't believe it. Unable to take part thanks to a technical difficulty. And that after he fixed his Arwing completely last night. Or did he forget some parts? Rust, loose screws, blocking clots... What could it be? Is panic taking hold again? Or is it his memory this time?

'What's wrong Fox? You're really not with me.' transmits Krystal over the video screen. She looks to her left, as if something is there. A weird quirk as there is nothing there. Otherwise Fox would have seen that.

Fox wants to say that he can't join her because of a malfunctioning exhaust but is interrupted by a rude sounding warning that the behemoth doors in front of him, the doors of his launch bay, are slowly closing. The sound the doors make when they close, seemingly against the control's will, sound like someone is calling his name from very far away. He has to really focus but he pick some parts of it out.

'What... the...*f#ck?* ROB!' he yells peppered at the robot in the center of all operations. 'Asses this mess! Both mine and those doors please...' he wishes restrained, rubbing his forehand to contain his anger.

Several bleeps and bloops later, ROB comes with a report that calms Fox a little. 'Filth clot detected in fuel line 4. Administrating acid injection.'

Fox sighs with his paws already back on the controls. 'Thanks robo pal. And what about those doors?'

'Minor programming error. I suspect a bug in the correspondence with...'

'ROB. Please. Hold your explanation and fix it okay? Heh heh, if I wanted a course in programming and bay door errors I would go back to the Academy.' he mocks with a sense of humor thrown in.

He looks at the monitor displaying the status of all components of his Arwing. In and outside. When he checks the fuel lines, the system doesn't register any kind of clot or fault. The stereotypical tap on it doesn't work either.

'Acid administration successful. Clot has been removed. Re-igniting the torch.'

Those words are music to Fox's ears as he pulls the controls back once more. This time he knows he'll be launched. However, the doors begin to close even faster now. They close and open, as if acting like a chewing mouth.

'Uhm... ROB? I don't wanna pressure you but how about that door problem? It's kinda frightening.' inquires Fox getting nervous.

But ROB doesn't seem to hear properly when he simply says that launch will commit in just ten seconds.

'ROB, can you hear me? The door is getting a little chewy on me. Fix that will ya?' he says more aggravated. He hears the sounds of the opening and closing being like puncturing needles to his eardrums. As if it's purposely taunting him by not listening to what he has to say. The lining of the doors begin to change color. From normal black to blood dripping red. It also gains what look like fangs of some kind...

'W-what is this?' he mumbles more to himself than to anyone he has a connection with as he stares what can only be described as the demonization of the bay doors. 'S-some kind of weird hallucination? No... those things can't talk. That's impossible. But... what is it then? Is my mind playing tricks on me? Or maybe it's just...'

His mumbling degrades into noise levels even a dog would have trouble hearing it. It gets so soft that even he can't make out what's he's saying. As if that wasn't bad enough, only a second later, he's not mumbling anymore but simply uttering sounds with only his lips and tongue trying to form words; not his vocal chords anymore.

'Fox?' says a somehow unrecognizable female voice over the video uplink. 'Are you talking to yourself or someone else? I know it's not me... are you feeling okay?'

He focuses his eyes on the screen, trying to name the blue, white-faced vixen on the screen. He wipes his eyes when his sight gets blurry or when his eyes start tearing up with him even feeling any emotion other than: "who the heck is that?"

'Ignition in 5 seconds.' warns ROB in advance. Along with that, the bay doors start to increase in speed. In the middle of Fox's target axis, for whatever reason, the number "300" with an attached "%" comes up suggesting that that's the increase in chewing speed that door underwent.

'W-w-wait...' utters Fox slurry as he barely moves his lips. It begins to dawn to him again who Krystal is and in what kind of horrible situation he's in. 'WAIT! ROB, abort the launch!' he yells when he's with the living again with a fully operational brain.

In vain however as he's launched, faster than Krystal, towards the chewing doors under accompany of him holding on to the controls for dear life while squealing like a pup. His worst fear is getting crushed by those gigantic steel doors and then having to see what Krystal has to go through.

But the doors, the jaws of the ship so to say, leave Fox quite in one piece. Fox exits the bay with a tilt to the right, which only chips off the top of a G-Diffuser in the top left. It does causes him to spin around in all sorts of random directions while being fired like a bullet from a gun. This must be how Slippy felt when he was knocked to Titania by Spyborg in Sector X during the Lylat Wars.

'Oh Shiiiiiiiiii...' yells Fox trying to get a hold of all the controls while trying not to get immensely sick in meantime. 'Come on you son of a bitch!'

With all his might, he tries to counteract the whirling of his ship, though with all the directions its facing it's a tough job. Sweat breaks out when he thinks about all the horrible things that might happen to him of an asteroid or some kind of space debris thinks about hitting him right on.

After much trouble and a lot of sweat shed, the Arwing comes to its senses and faces nose forward and exhaust backward. Fox, who sighs deep and once more relieved, gets one last scare before he can fly on ahead.

An asteroid who was a little late on hitting him full-on, decides to flail itself at Fox's left-wing. It takes a significant portion of the wing with him, leaving a chunk big enough for a small car to take its place.

'What is this Fox?' transmits Krystal as she joins Fox in flight in her Cloud Runner. 'What happened?'

'Urgh... got a chipped G-Diffuser that caused me to spin out of control and some asshole asteroid took half of my left wing.' he groans in a very negative tone. 'But eh! All things considered, I'm alive and breathing aren't I?'

'Barely yes. Can you still fly?'

Fox snickers. 'Of course I can Krystal. I've had worse than this.' says Fox, stroking his own ego a little. 'Just... some onerous beginnings to say it fancy.' he says while stretching himself out, as if he had just awoken from slumber.

'Well if you say so...' answers Krystal a tad doubtful. '...then I believe you. Let's meet those who need us shall we?' she ends on a warmer note.

'Proposal accepted. But let's take a little easier than we were planning before.' suggest Fox, turning on the autopilot. 'Just... reeeelaaaax...'

He leans back into his chair and puts his paws behind his head. The panorama sky light gives a great view of the stars. He needs this little moment of relaxation. Why exactly is not known to him but he wants to forget that weird occurrence back at the hangar.

Why ROB never did something about those biting doors, why his view on everything suddenly turned demonic, why he couldn't recognize Krystal for a brief moment... and mainly why Krystal was constantly looking to her left and talking to him in that direction. With too many questions that distract him from what he has to do, he stores them in the back of his head for later.

With a smug smile, smelling the victory of another mission and the scent of new cash flowing in, his Arwing flies towards the rendezvous point, where they'll meet the transport ships in need of an escort.

If any mistakes were made, please PM me. Leave a review without mentioning mistakes. If it can be between us, that would be brilliant.

That was some tight situation Fox crawled out of. It's very strange how Fox suddenly didn't remember anything. As if something is wrong with his brain... Glad you viewed this next chapter of My Will. I reckon that the next will be up in two days or so. Till then!


	6. Before the storm

I'm back with more My Will! The poll was indecisive whether to give them personality or keep them bland. So I chose the middle way. Only those who are gonna matter later on, have expanded personalities whereas others have a base. This chapter is the only not to include any of the Star Fox members, but enough references to them and the series. Enjoy!  


Also, I changed up my style. Spoken sentences will now be shown between " instead of the usual '. Thoughts will be written in _Italian_ instead of in between two *'s.  


**Chapter 5: Before the storm  
**

Loud, ear-piercing static reverberates through the diamond-shaped cockpit of his fighter. He has trouble with setting the frequency right. Or his transmitter is just being a huge pain in the neck to him. Either way, a firm slam of a clenched fist seems to solve the problem. He didn't use the cast spikes placed on the knuckles of his glove so the equipment stays in one piece. Though he wouldn't have mind if he saw that piece of rust being reduced to bite-sized bits if he went haywire on it.

"I hope for your sake that you work now." he warns to the device with a restrained demeanor and with a slightly rustled voice, before he sets the frequency to its desired state. This time, no static is heard whatsoever.

With a calmed mind, he allows himself to fall back into his chair as he brings the microphone of his earpiece closer to his mouth. He exhales a couple of times, having stress enough besides the non-functional commutations.

"Eagle to Mother. Mother, can you hear me?" he transmits as he looks to his right. He sees nothing more than what is ahead of him: space and stars. But when what he's staring at turns off its visual jamming devices for active camouflage, he sees one of the transport ships carrying the new load of weaponry and medicine to Papetoon.

"This is Mother; I can hear you loud and clear Eagle. I reckon you had some problems with your communications" says the operator who answered with a somewhat mocking twist, as if it wasn't the first time this happened.

"Ah well… I guess this old faithful needs some reworking." he says while he pads on the top of the dashboard. "For the rest, she can fly like a soaring eagle. Don't forget that this cutey has vanquished more enemies threatening to blow that smart mouth of yours off your face than you ever made wise cracks."

The operator laughs a little awkward, because he has nothing to counteract what Eagle just said. After a few _sure_'s_, _sounding more like an apology than anything else, he ends the transmission. Eagle switches frequency while snickering in himself, knowing he got the guy. The transport ship turns its visual jammers back on and disappears out of sight.

"Some idiot that guy is…" comments Sergeant Rick Engel, codenamed "Eagle" to himself.

"I know right?" he hears from a familiar, somewhat kid-like voice in his earpiece.

He looks behind him and sees a few Cornerian fighter appear, flying down from above. The logos just below the cockpit suggest they are other members of his squadron. The 93th squadron, also known as the "Blazing Eagles". The names of the pilots are Flynn Taggart, Indie Deshamure and Travis Reynolds.

"You have no idea Taggart." sighs Rick trying to remain focused on the main mission. Something is clearly bothering him.

Taggart, being his best friend, though considered more of a lap-dog than a friend by the others, tries to find out what's bothering him. However, Indie is way ahead of him.

"Something wrong Sergeant?" wonders Indie with a tad of Indian in her pronunciation, the only female on this squadron.

Taggart glares vile at her with an annoyed sneer for taking away his opportunity to ask **his** best friend what is going on. Indie isn't the newest member to the squadron, but in the eyes of Taggart a potential danger to his friendship with Rick. Ever since her joining a few years ago, she has been acting like a yes-woman towards Rick in his eyes. It might be just because she wanted to belong in the group, but it could also be an attempt at flirting. And just like her dead-on accuracy, her attempts at flirting are always spot-on.

"Well Indie… I haven't heard a thing about the recon unit. I've send them ahead to look for potential threats. And they were supposed to report 10 minutes ago." he remarks while rubbing his chin in concern. He activates the sonar function on his radar in order to find the recon unit. But it ends up with nothing but himself, the three other ships and the two transport ships swarmed with dozens of other squadron members.

"I'm also waiting on the Star Fox team to come and help with the escort of the hunks of defenseless metal." he adds to the list.

"Like they'll ever come..." comments Travis, being the annoying and flat-ass American he always has been. Rick has to hold back a growl, since he's the son of his superior. He so desperately wanted him to join Rick's squadron in order to gain some discipline.

_Then why don't you just lock him up in an insane asylum?_ thinks Rick by himself before wiping the crabbedness off of him. He has no intention to lend an ear to Travis' comments, but if he ignores it, he knows that either he himself or Indie is going to snap.

"The Star Fox team will arrive very soon Travis. They always do." says Rick sighing, hoping this would shut Travis' mouth. The opposite is true however.

"It's like my dad always says: We have to trust on the strength of our own army. We don't need Star Fox! They are always late and when they do show up, they take all the credit from us hardworking soldiers."

Taggart laughs in himself, having a great counter in his head. When Indie gestures from her ship that he has to tell it, he can no longer hold it to himself.

"Did they took our jobs too?" asks Taggart over the intercom, snickering while trying to hold back shouting it and laughing out loud.

It remains lugubriously quiet on Travis' end as he holds his mouth shut for once. Rick turns back to his controls and wishes out loud that Travis would do this more often. Both Indie and Taggart can find themselves completely in that. Rick turns back to his search for the missing recon unit and Star Fox.

However, far away from the escorting fighters, the recon unit seems to be in a lot of trouble. The pirates of the ruthless Dominican have spotted the unit only a few minutes ago. It was the main fleet, the war machine that spreads terror. Only natural, that it became a feast for the pirates and a total humiliation for the recon unit.

Through the wreckages and the splintered parts of lost comrades, fly only three remaining ships. The rubble gives them the necessary cover they need from the immense barrage coming from hundreds of hostile fighters and a massive cruiser that may hold an immense secret.

When a small part of the fighters breaks formation to begin the hunt, they lose overall picture and subsequently the remaining fighters as well. In a flash, the hunter became prey. As floating freely through the zero gravity space, the recon unit lurks at the lost souls. Holding a rather painful grudge against them in their hearts. They, who have mercilessly turned their friends and comrades into fine dust and scrap metal.

At the gesture of a finger by the remaining superior officer, the three ships reignite their engines and boost out of the rubble like a speeding bullet. The damage they create however is much larger than any bullet could ever cause.

In total, 22 fighters broke formation and 22 could never tell the tale ever again. The whole armada opens fire against the three remaining fighters. Bravely, they return the favor by unleashing all of their weapons as well.

Asteroids and other remnants that roam space aimlessly help provide cover for the three fighters as they are getting ever closer to the whole armada. The pilots know that this is their death sentence but a good death is worth a million times more sloppy execution in the hands of those pirates.

The captain of the cruiser leading the fleet is in the meantime been called to deck to advise on the situation. His orders of 'terminate everyone' are still in effect, but it doesn't seem to apply to those Cornerian fighters.

The door slides open to the left as two guards turn towards the opening. They salute as the captain comes in. An aged orangutan dressed in a menacing looking, black padded armor with a cape majestically waving behind him. He walks towards the middle of the bridge taking salutes from all the other personnel present. He takes his spot on his chair and observes the situation through the enormous windows in front of him.

His new assistant, a young grey vulpine and a real rookie at first sight runs towards him holding a report of the current battle progress in his paws. The captain turns his paw to receive the report in the open hand palm. With a little shudder, the assistant hands him the file.

"Sir. We were able to destroy all fifteen fighters. With the exception of the three you see in front of us." reports the assistant as the captain calmly flips through the pages. "What are your orders?"

The captain closes the report after only taking a few seconds of looking at it and throws it in a nearby corner. Within a rub of the chin, he manages to end the carnage displayed in front of him.

"Break this fight up." he says.

"B-break it up? But Sir… Dominican himself said that we were to…"

The assistant has no time to finish his stuttering notice before the captain simple presses a button. It opens the communications with all personnel currently firing.

"All ships and crew members. Stop firing." he orders in a sturdy, bulldog-like bark while keeping his face straight. All glanced in a calm demeanor. Both paws stay on the arm rails on his chair and the back of his head against the pillow sewed to the chair.

"But captain…" continues the assistant frightened for his life when Dominican finds out that their sides stopped firing, ignoring his order. "…those were your orders as well. To add to the list; if Dominican finds out about this, we are all toast."

The remark of the assistant makes some heads rear towards the captain. What seemed to be a clear and unassailable order is now questioned. The captain however has no time for inquiring over his order. He rises from his chair without saying a word.

Every reared heads he looks at immediately goes back to where they are supposed to be facing; their workplace. He stops in front of the door he came in just a few seconds ago as the guards won't open the door. It seems they too question the order of the captain.

Before the captain can react to it, his assistant, who ran after him, taps him on his left shoulder. Snuffing like an angry bull, the captain turns around to face a shrunken assistant. Fear finds its way into every vein, every pore of the poor vulpine's body.

"I make the decisions here." barks the captain demeaning in the assistant's face. "A crook like Dominican has no strategic understanding. He can't see that if this is all he has to face the Cornerian Army, he will be drilled into the ground."

He points towards the window where the fighters from a wall to protect the cruiser from the still firing Cornerian fighters. That hand, he clenches it into a fist. Operators in the room get the message and activate a small cannon just below the bay where the fighters are stored. It emits a blue, spiraling ray that widens and envelops the Cornerian fighters.

The beam however doesn't destroy the ships however, to relief of the three pilots inside. It however burns away all the weapon systems and crops up the wings, effectively disabling the ships.

"Aaah. The tractor beam never ceases to fail nor impress me." says the captain with both of hands on this back. He fully turns towards the window to observe the ships harmlessly float before the wall of ships he controls. It gives him a moment to snicker, to relax and enjoy being right over Dominican.

"You have much to learn Clark." he remarks absent as he passes the assistant as if he's nothing more than air. "As a captain, you have to follow orders. But orders that cause your own men, in this case those who were pulled away from family and friends, to die for nothing?" He grabs the assistant by his collar and pulls him up with just one hand, bringing him closer to his intimidating face. "That's something I will never get and never will obey! Understood... rookie?"

A completely bleached vulpine completely shudders his head up and down before he nearly passes out. The captain sets him down on the ground and tells him to buzz off. The assistant walks, more like shuffles, back to this position at the windows and buries his face in his paws.

"Rookie!" he bawls out again, shocking the assistant again. "Open the communications with those pilots."

The line of communications is opened as a microphone extends from his earpiece. He activates the earpiece with a push of the button. The first thing the captain hears is the commotion and the disbelief that their ships don't work anymore.

"My name is Captain Saru Oikonny. Yes, this name is indeed smeared with the mire of my younger half-brother. I can assure you however that I'm not anything like him. I've disabled your ships and will take you as my prisoners. Surrender and submit, or I will become like my brother."

This is all the captain has to say before turning around and walking towards the exit. In mutual understanding, the Cornerian pilots let go of their equipment and pray to God that what the bearer of the last name Oikonny is telling the truth.

"We'll die anyway." says the superior, somewhat aimed at Saru. "Better a good death than a sloppy one."

Saru stops when the sentence ends. He turns around to the ships again. The way the Cornerian superior brought that line might suggest that he wants to become a martyr for his men and his army. Sacrificing himself for the good moral he stands for.

"No death is justifiable." rolls over Saru's tongue in the most monotone yet most impressive way. Those four words were not expected. Both the Cornerian pilots as well as the crew members aboard lift their eyebrow.

"Death, no matter how you've creamed it. No matter how honorable the bigwigs made it. No matter how good you were told it was… is never justifiable. That we stand on opposite sides before each other does not mean that I have to pull the trigger. Certainly not now that you've surrendered. I'd rather flip the safety on, hand you the gun and give you a hand."

Saru adjusts the settings on his earpiece, turning a small wheel to change the frequency. Whatever he says now, will only be audible for the persons present on the bridge and the superior pilot.

"I have orders to exterminate all who stand in the way of Dominican's fleet. But as long as that spoiled brat doesn't give me a direct order to, I will not allow more blood to flow by my hand. We will take you in as prisoners of war and treat you according to humane rules. Do you agree?"

It's remains quiet on the side of the superior. It doesn't nerve Saru at all. He stated what he intended and now it's up to the pilot to decide if he will comply or would rather die. The latter… is not chosen.

"This is Corporal Auris of the 93th squadron. We will surrender."

Saru folds his arms as the microphone retreats back into the earpiece. He was successful in preserving more life than at first intended. The Cornerian recon unit was taking fire from automated guns, programmed to fire upon everything considered hostile. Saru was incapable of stopping them in time to preserve more. As he thinks over the whole situation, as a captain serving under Dominican, his vision becomes murky.

Right before his eyes, pictures flash by. They display his wife and young daughter of 8. He blinks fast hoping it will eventually go away. But every blink is like moving on the next slide. At the end of the whole riddle, is the picture that haunts him the most.

"Captain?" breaks through the intense trance Saru was in. He shakes it off and turns towards his assistant who broke him out.

"Uhm… yes?" he says recovered very quickly from his trance.

"The prisoners have been taken in. A security detail has been sent towards their ships for escort to their cells. Also, we are coming closer to the Cornerian transport we are supposed to tackle and expropriate."

"Hmm. Fair enough. We will come in like a storm. Yet, we will mnimize casualties on both sides. I can't stand anymore of this bloody nonsense." he ends somewhat humorously ambiguous as he takes his leave for his own quarters.

Saru wants to leave the bridge, but at the doorway, he stops to turn around as he feels something gnawing in his back. Some concerned faces look back at him. His order to take the pilots prisoner is disobeying Dominican's order. And the punishment for that means death by torture at least.

"I just want to say that I'm doing this all for you. The sooner we have a good record with the Cornerian Army, the sooner we can surrender ourselves. Once Dominican has lost all of this influence, we all will return to our families he so brutally ripped us away from. Our families… my family…"

The door closes behind him, leaving the bridge in a tense silence.

As always, see anything that is faulty or otherwise distracting, please note me and I'll change it. Not in the reviews please. THANK YOU and see you next time!


End file.
